^     THE     \ 
O  LIBRARIES  =t 


Given  by 

Heni3^  W.  Howell 


.?«- 


M  E  M  O'l  R  S 

OP 

CELEBRATED 

FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 


BY  MRS.   JAMESON, 

AUTHOKESS   OF   "THE   DIABY   OF   AN   ENNUYEE,"   ETC.,   ETtt 


IN     TWO     VOLUMES. 

VOL.    I. 


NEW    Y  O  R  K  : 
HARPER  &   BROTHERS,    PUBLISHERS, 

82   CLIFF    STKE  K  l\ 


V 


i     *': 


<r 

ff-  - 

V 

(X      ~ 


PREFACE. 


The  intention  of  this  work  is  to  present  in  a 
small  compass,  and  a  one  view,  an  idea  of  the  in- 
fluence Avhich  a  female  government  has  had  gene- 
rally on  men  and  nations,  and  of  the  influence  which 
the  possession  of  power  has  had  individually/  on 
the  female  character.  If  it  should  be  criticised  as 
being  too  brief,  perhaps  it  will  also  be  recollected 
that  it  would  have  been  far  easier  to  write  such  a 
work  in  twenty  volumes  than  in  two ;  but  in  that 
case,  "  the  latter  end  of  the  history  would  certainly 
have  forgotten  the  beginning ;"  and  the  principal 
.  object,  that  of  presenting  a  general  coup-d'oiil  which 
might  be  grasped  by  the  mind  at  once,  would  have 
been  defeated  altogether. 

Perhaps  the  title  of  the  work  should  have  been 
properly,  "  Comparative  Sketches,"  or  "  Memo- 
rials" of  celebrated  Female  Sovereigns,  rather  than 
Memoirs:  for  the  didactic  form  of  history  or  biog- 
raphy has  not  always  been  adhered  to ;  incidents 
and  characters  are  not  here  treated  in  a  political 
and  historical,  but  in  a  moral  and  picturesque,  point 
of  view ;  and  public  affiiirs  and  national  events, 
which  are  detailed  in  the  usual  works  of  authority, 
are  not  dwelt  upon  except  as  connected  with  the 
destiny,  or  emanating  from  the  personal  and  private 


XVI  PREFACE. 

character — the  passions  and  prejudices  of  the  indi« 
vidual  sovereign. 

From  the  ideas  which  I  know  to  be  entertained 
by  well-informed  persons,  it  should  seem  that  the 
manner  in  which  we  are  driven  through  a  course 
of  history  as  part  of  our  early  education  might  be 
amended ;  the  memory  is  loaded  to  repletion  with 
^acts,  dates,  and  names ;  meantime,  some  of  the 
best  faculties  of  the  mind,  Avhich  might  well  be 
exercised  on  these  subjects,  remain  dormant ;  the 
natural  judgment   is   surrendered  to  mere  words, 
producing  prejudices  and  false  associations  which 
tinge  our  feelings  and  opinions  during  our  whole 
lives.     It  may  be  added,  that  the  moral  sense  runs 
some  risk  of  being  perverted  by  the  manne-r  in 
which  we  misapply  habitually  and  by  prescriptive 
custom  certain  epithets.     For  why,  it  may  be  asked, 
are  victories    always  glorious^   always   splendid  ? 
Why  must  our  sympathies  be  always  enlisted  on 
the  side  of  successful  ambition  1     Why  must  crimi- 
nal or  all-grasping  power  be  ever  exhibited  under 
an  aspect  of  greatness,  when  surely  there  is  a  re- 
verse of  the  impression  producing  a  far  deeper  and 
more  useful  lesson  ?     Why  (and  this  is  a  most  se- 
rious evil)  should  the  young,  the  pure,  the  feminine 
mind,  just  expanding  to  the   sense  of  truth  and 
beauty  and  goodness,  be  early  polluted  by  relations 
of  profligacy  and  cruelty,  horrible  and  physical  tor- 
tures, such  as  are  too  fully  and  grossly  detailed  in 
some  of  our  most  esteemed  histories  ?     If  under 
the  idea  of  inspiring  a  just  horror  for  these  things, 
it  is  as  if  we  should  teach  our  children  humanity 
by  introducing  them  into  the  shambles.     Instances 
might  be  given  of  the  painful  and  injurious  effect 


PREFACE.  XVll 

produced  on  youthful  and  feeling  minds  by  certain 
passages  of  history,  stronger,  more  lasting,  and  far 
more  baneful  than  by  any  absurd  romance  or  fairy- 
tale, or  any  of  the  banished  superstitions  and  gob- 
lins of  the  nursery.  These  reflections  may  seem 
beside  the  present  subject,  and  would  lead  us  too 
far. — It  would  be  presumption  to  say  that  in  this 
little  work  I  have  been  able  to  avoid  entirely  the 
objections  to  which  I  have  alluded ;  but,  at  least, 
those  great  moral  truths  which  are  based  on  our 
religion  as  Christians,  and  lead  to  our  best  views 
of  duty  and  happiness,  are  not  lost  sight  of:  and 
in  estimating  the  characters  and  events  which  are 
here  rapidly  portrayed  rather  than  narrated,  I  do 
not  wish  to  dictate  opinions,  but,  by  enabling  the 
young  reader  of  history  to  recall  and  arrange  pre- 
vious impressions,  to  afford  some  new  materials 
for  thought  and  comparison. 

There  may  be  a  difference  of  opinion  as  to  whe- 
ther women  ought,  or  ought  not,  to  be  intrusted 
with  the  executive  government  of  a  country;  but 
if,  in  a  very  complicared  and  artificial  system  of 
society,  the  rule  of  a  woman  be  tolerated  or  legal- 
ized as  a  necessary  evil,  for  the  purpose  of  avoid- 
ing worse  evils  arising  from  a  disputed  succession 
and  civil  commotions, — then  it  remains  a  question 
how  far  the  feminine  character  may  be  so  modified 
by  education  as  to  render  its  inseparable  defects  as 
little  injurious  to  society,  and  its  peculiar  virtues  as 
little  hurtful  to  herself,  as  possible.  Women,  in 
possession  of  power,  are  so  sensible  of  their  inhe- 
rent weakness,  that  they  ^e  always  in  extremes. 
Hence,  among  the  most  arbitrary  governments  re- 
corded are  those  of  women.     They  substitute  for 

R3 


XVlll  PREFACE. 

the  dominion  of  that  superior  strength,  mental  and 
physical,  which  belongs  to  the  other  sex,  and  with 
which  should  rest  "  all  lawful  rule  and  right  su- 
premacy," the  mere  force  o^  ivill;  and  call  that 
power  which  is  founded  in  weakness.     Christina 
of  Sweden  has  left  a  memorable  sentence  under 
her  own  royal  hand,  which  may  serve  as  a  com- 
mentary on  the  threadbare  adage,  "  when  women 
reign,  men  govern."     Thus  she  writes — for  it  is 
but  just  to  give  her  own  words  : — "  Quand  j'etais 
en  mon  royaume,  j'avais  nombre  de  conseillers  et 
de  ministres,  que  je  consuliais  tons,  et  dont  j'en- 
tendais  les  avis  :  mais  moi  seule  je  pris  les  reso- 
lutions  de  moi-meme  a  ma  fa^on,  tant  dans  les 
grandes  choses  que  dans  les  moindres  affaires ;  et 
je  ne  requerais  autre  chose  de  mes  serviteurs  et 
ministres  qu'une  aveugle  obeissance,  avec  laquelle 
lis  executaient  mes  decrets  sans  replique.     J'etais 
seule  la  maitresse  absolue,  et  je  voulais  I'etre,  et 
je  savais  I'etre  par  la  grace  de  Dieu.     L'empereur, 
la  Suede,  et  tout  le  monde  savent  tout  cela.     II  est 
vrai,  qu'a  I'heure  qu'il  est,  j'ai  change  de  fortune, 
mais  pas  de  sentiment.     Je  fais  a  present  en  petit, 
ce  que  je  faisais  alors  en  grand,"  &c.* 

Ludicrous  as  this  may  sound  in  so  many  words, 
we  have  here  the  true  feminine  idea  of  empire, — 
viz.  the  privilege  of  saying  je  le  veux :  and,  how- 
ever modified  by  the  character  of  the  individual, — 
however  dissembled — for  all  had  not  the  frank  au- 
dacity of  Christina, — we  may  trace  the  same  feel- 
ing, the  same  principle  of  action  in  every  woman 

ff 

*  Letter  to  Bonvisi,  the  apostolic  nuncio  at  Vienna,  in  1677.— (Vide 
Correspondence  de  Christine.)  The  constitution  of  Swi  den  at  the  time 
Of  Christina's  accession  was  that  of  a  free  state  or  limited  monarchy. 


PREFACE.  XIX 

who  lias  eirher  inherited  power,  or  achieved  politi- 
cal greatness  ;  and  not  more  in  the  acute  Elizabeth, 
and  the  haughty  energetic  Catherine,  than  in  the 
stupid,  heartless  Anne,  and  the  amiable  Maria. 
Theresa. 

On  the  whole,  it  seems  indisputable  that  the 
experiments  hitherto  made  in  the  way  of  female 
government  have  been  signally  unfortunate ;  and 
that  women  called  to  empire  have  been,  in  most 
cases,  conspicuously  unhappy  or  criminal.  So 
that,  were  we  to  judge  by  the  past,  it  might  be 
decided  at  once,  that  the  power  which  belongs  to 
us,  as  a  sex,  is  not  properly  or  naturally  that  of 
the  sceptre  or  the  sword. 


MEMOIRS 


C0NTAIN«O 


IIN   THE   FIRST  VOLUML. 


Page 

Semiramis           .....  25 

Cleopatra,  Queen  of  Egypt  .         31 

Zenobia,  Queen  of  Palmyra    .  57 

Joanna  I.  Queen  of  Naples          .  .          65 

Joanna  II.  of  Naples         .         .         .  95  ♦ 

Isabella  of  Castile     .         •         .  112 

Mary  Queen  of  Scots     .         •         .  .171 

QuFEN  Elizabeth         .         •         -  213 
I.— B 


-By  my  troth 


I  would  not  be  a  queen  !— 

Verily, 

I  swear,  'tis  better  to  be  lowly  born. 
And  range  with  humble  livers  in  content, 
Than  to  be  perk'd  up  in  a  glistering  grief. 
And  wear  a  golden  sorrow  ! 

King  Henry  VIII.,  Ad  2,  Sc.  5. 


CELEBRATED 

FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 


SEMIRAMIS. 

Semiramis,  Queen  of  Assyria,  is  the  first  female 
Bovereig-n  upon  record  who  ever  held  undivided  em- 
pire. All  the  accounts  which  have  come  down  to 
us  concerning  this  celebrated  queen  are  mixed  up 
with  so  much  exaggeration,  absurdity,  and  mytho- 
logical fiction,  that  she  may  be  considered  partly  a 
fabulous  and  partly  an  historical  personage.  As 
beheld  through  the  long  lapse  of  ages,  and  in  the  dim 
distance  of  primeval  time,  with  all  her  gorgeous  and 
Babylonish  associations  around  her,  Simiramis  ap- 
pears to  our  fancy  rather  as  a  colossal  emblem  of 
female  sovereignty  overshadowing  the  East  than  as 
a  real  and  distinct  individual ;  yet,  that  such  a  wo- 
man did  once  exist  is  more  than  probable,  and  her 
name  has  been  repeated  from  age  to  age,  till  it  has 
become  so  illustrious,  and  her  exploits  and  character 
so  frequently  alluded  to  in  history,  in  poetry,  and  in 
the  arts,  that  it  is  obviously  necessary  to  be  ac- 
quainted with  the  traditions  respecting  her ;  though 
quite  unnecessary  to  give  implicit  credit  to  the  rela- 
tion of  events  resting  on  such  vague,  remote,  and 
doubtful  testimony,  that-,  if  it  be  difficult  to  believe,  it 
is  impossible  to  confute  them.  The  time  at  which 
Semiramis  lived  is  a  matter  of  dispute;  and  the,  au- 

Vot.  I.— C 


26  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

thorities  vary  so  extravagantly  that  we  art  tempted 
to  exclaim,  with  Bryant,  "  What  credit  can  possibly 
be  given  to  the  history  of  a  person,  the  period  of 
whose  existence  cannot  be  ascertained  within  1500 
years  ?"  Yet,  so  universal  a  celebrity  must  surely 
have  had  some  foundation  in  truth 

According  to  RoUin,  Semiramis  flourished  about 
1050  years  before  the  Christian  era,  that  is,  about 
400  years  after  the  Flood,  and  nearly  about  the  time 
of  Abraham.  Other  chronologists,  with  far  more 
probability,  place  her  reign  about  600  years  later ; 
thus  making  her  nearly  contemporary  with  Gideon, 
Fudge  of  Israel,  and  Theseus,  King  of  Athens. 

She  was  born  at  Ascalon,  in  Syria,  and  was  the 
wife  of  Menones,  one  of  the  generals  of  Ninus,  King 
of  Assyria.  At  the  siege  of  Bactria,  whither  she 
accompanied  her  husband,  she  distinguished  herself 
by  her  prudence  nnd  courage,  and  through  her  sa- 
^city  the  city  was  at  length  taken,  after  a  protracted 
siege.  She  discovered  a  weak  part  in  the  fortifica- 
tions, and  led  some  soldiers  up  a  by-path  by  night, 
by  which  means  the  walls  were  scaled,  and  the  city 
entered.  Ninus,  struck  with  her  wisdom  and  her 
charms,  entreated  her  husband  to  resign  Semiramis 
to  him,  offering  his  daughter,  the  Princess  Sosana, 
in  exchange,  and  threa,tening  to  put  out  the  eyes  of 
the  husband  if  he  refused.  Menones,  seeing  the 
king  resolved  on  his  purpose,  and  the  lady  in  all 
probability  nothing  loath,  and  unable  to  determine 
between  the  alternatives  presented  to  him, — the  loss 
of  his  eyes,  or  the  loss  of  his  wife, — hung  himself  in 
a  fit  of  jealousy  and  despair,  and  Ninus  immediately 
afterward  married  his  widow.  Semiramis  became 
the  mother  of  a  son  named  Ninias,  and  the  king,  dy- 
ing soon  afterward,  bequeathed  to  her  the  govern- 
ment of  his  empire  during  the  minority  of  his  son. 
We  have  another  version  of  this  part  of  the  story  of 
Semiramis,  which  has  aflforded  a  fine  subject  for 
pv)ets  and  satirists.     It  is  recorded  that  Ninus,  in  the 


KEMIRAMIS.  S7 

extriivag-anfv'i  of  his  dotage,  granted  to  his  young 
and  beautiful  queen  the  absolute  sovereignty  of  his 
empire  for  a  single  day.     He  seated  her  on  his  regai 
tlu'one,  placed  his  signet  on  her  finger,  commanded 
the  officers  of  state  and  courtiers  to  do  her  homage, 
himself  setting  the  first  example,  and  her  decrees 
during  that  brief  space  of  time  were  to  be  considered 
absolute   and  irrevocable.     Semirarais,  with  equal 
subtlety  and  audacity,  instantly  took  advantage  of 
her  delegated  power,  and  ordered  her  husband  to  be 
first  imprisoned,  and  then  strangled, — a  punishment 
which  his  folly  would  almost  have  deserved  from 
any  other  hand.     She  declared  herself  his  successor, 
and  contrived  to  retain  the  supreme  power  during 
the  remainder  of  her  life.     She  was  twenty  years 
of  age  when  she  assumed  the  reins  of  empire,  and 
resolved  to  immortalize  her  name  by  magnificent 
monuments  and  mighty  enterprises.     She  is  said  to 
have  founded  the  city  of  Babylon,  or  at  least  to  have 
adorned  it  with  such  prodigious  and  splendid  works 
that  they  ranked  among  the  wonders  of  the  v/orld. 
When  we  read  the  accounts  of  the  "  Great  Babylon," 
of  its  walls  and  brazen  gates,  its  temples,  bridges, 
and  hanging  gardens,  we  should  be  inclined  to  treat 
the  whole  as  a  magnificent  fiction  of  poetry,  if  the 
stupendous  monuments  of  human  art  and  labour  still 
remaining  in  India  and  Upper  Egypt  did  not  render 
credible  the  most  extravagant  of  these  descriptions, 
and  prove  on  what  a  gigantic  scale  the  ancients 
worked  for  immortality.     We   are  also   told  that 
among  the  edifices  erected  by  her  was  a  mausoleum 
to  the  memory  of  the  king,  her  husband,  adjoining 
the  great  Tower  of  Babel,  and  adorned  with  statues 
of  massive  gold.     When  Semiramis  had  completed 
the  adornment  of  her  capital  by  the  most  wonderful 
works  of  art,  she  undertook  a  progress  through  her 
vast  empire,  and  everywhere  left  behind  her  glorious 
memorials  of  her  power  and  her  benevolence.     It 
seems  to  have  been  an  article  of  faith  among  all  the 


28  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

writers  of  antiquity,  that  Assyria  had  never  been  so 
great  and  so  prosperous  as  under  the  dominion  of 
this  extraordinary  woman.  She  built  enormous 
aqueducts,  connected  the  various  cities  by  roads  and 
causeways,  in  the  construction  of  which  she  levelled 
hills  and  filled  up  valleys;  and  she  was  careful,  like 
the  imperial  conqueror  of  modern  times,  to  inscribe 
her  name  and  the  praises  of  her  own  munificence  on 
all  these  monuments  of  her  greatness.  In  one  of 
these  inscriptions  she  gives  her  own  genealogy,  in 
a  long  list  of  celestial  progenitors ;  which  shows 
that,  like  some  other  monarchs  of  the  antique  time, 
she  had  the  weakness  to  disown  her  plebeian  origin, 
and  wished  to  lay  claim  to  a  divine  and  fictitious 
parentage. 

*'  My  father  was  Jupiter  Bel  us ; 

My  grandfather,  Babylonian  Saturn  ; 

My  great-grandfather,  Elthiopian  Saturn ; 

My  great-grandfather's  father,  Egyptian  Saturn  ; 

And  my  great-grandfather's  grandfather, 

Phoenix  CceIus  Ogyges." 

After  reading  this  high-sounding  catalogue  of 
grandfathers  and  great-grandfathers,  it  is  amusing  to 
recollect  that  Semiramis  has  left  posterity  in  some 
doubt  Avhether  she  herself  ever  had  a  real  existence, 
and  may  not  be,  after  all,  as  imaginary  a  personage 
as  any  of  her  shadowy,  heaven-sprung  ancestors. 

There  is  another  of  the  inscriptions  of  Semiramis, 
which  is  in  a  much  finer  spirit. 

"Nature  bestowed  on  ine  the  foniri  of  a  woman;  my  actions  have 
surpassed  those  of  the  most  valiant  of  men.  I  ruled  the  empire  of  Ni- 
nus,  which  stretched  eastward  as  far  as  the  river  Hyhanam,  southward 
to  the  land  of  incense  and  of  myrrh,  and  northward  to  the  country  of  the 
Scythians  and  the  Sogdians.  IJefore  me  no  Assyrian  had  seen  the  grejit 
sea.  I  beheld  with  my  own  eyes  four  seas,  and  their  shores  acknow- 
ledged my  power.  I  constrained  the  mighty  rivers  to  flow  according  to 
my  will,  and  I  led  their  waters  to  fertilize  lands  that  had  been  before 
barren  and  without  inhabitants.  1  raised  impregnable  towers ;  I  con- 
structed paved  roads  in  ways  hitherto  untrodden  but  by  the  beasts  of 
the  forest;  and  in  the  midst  of  these  mighty  works  I  found  time  for 
pleasure  and  for  friendship." 

We  are  told  that  Semiramis  was  extremely  active 


SEMIRAMIS.         .  2? 

and  vigilant  in  the  administration  of  her  affairs.  One 
morning-,  as  she  was  dressing,  information  was 
brought  to  her  that  a  rebeUion  had  broken  out  in  the 
city ;  she  immediately  rushed  forth,  half-attired,  her 
hair  floating  in  disorder,  appeased  the  tumultuous 
populace  by  her  presence  and  her  eloquence,  and 
then  returned  to  finish  her  toilette. 

Not  satisfie'l  with  being  the  foundress  of  mighty 
cities,  and  sovereign  over  the -greatest  empire  of  the 
earth,  Semiramis  was  ambitious  of  military  renown. 
She  subdued  the  Medes,  the  Persians,  the  Libyans, 
and  the  Ethiopians,  and  afterward  determined  to  in- 
vade India.  She  is  the  first  monarch  on  record  who 
penetrated  beyond  the  Indus,  for  the  expedition  of 
Bacchus  is  evidently  fabulous.  The  amount  of  her 
army  appears  to  us  absolutely  incredible.  She  is 
said  to  have  assembled  three  millions  of  foot-sol- 
diers and  five  hundred  thousand  cavalry ;  and  as  the 
strength  of  the  Indians  consisted  principally  in  the 
number  of  their  elephants,  she  caused  many  thousand 
camels  to  be  disguised  and  caparisoned  like  elephants 
of  war,  in  hopes  of  deceiving  and  terrifying  the  ene- 
my by  this  stratagem.  Another  historian  informs 
us  that  she  constructed  machines  in  the  shape  of 
elephants,  and  that  these  machines  were  moved  by 
some  mechanical  contrivance,  which  was  worked  by 
a  single  man  in  the  interior  of  each.  The  Indian 
king  or  chief,  whose  name  was  Stabrobates,  hearing 
of  the  stupendous  armament  which  was  moving 
against  him,  sent  an  ambassador  to  Semiramis,  de- 
manding who  and  what  she  was  1  and  why,  without 
any  provocation,  she  was  come  to  invade  his  domin- 
ions ?  To  these  very  reasonable  inquiries  the  As- 
syrian queen  haughtily  replied,  "  Go  to  your  king, 
and  tell  him  I  will  myself  inform  him  who  I  am,  and 
why  I  am  come  hither."  Then,  rushing  onwards  at 
the  head  of  her  swarming  battalions,  she  passed  the 
river  In<ius  in  spite  of  all  opposition,  and  advanced 
far  into  the  country,  the  people  flying  before  her  un- 

C-3  * 


30  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

resisting,  and  apparently  vanquished.  But  having 
thus  insidiously  led  her  on  till  she  was  surrounded 
by  hostile  lands,  and  beyond  the  reach  of  assistance 
from  her  own  dominions,  the  Indian  monarch  sud- 
denly attacked  her,  overwhelmed  her  mock  ele- 
phants by  the  power  and  weight  of  his  real  ones, 
and  completely  routed  her  troops,  who  fled  in  all 
directions.  The  queen  herself  was  wounded,  and 
only  saved  by  the  swiftness  of  her  Arabian  steed, 
which  bore  her  across  the  Indus ;  and  she  returned 
to  her  kingdom  with  scarce  a  third  of  her  vast 
army.  We  are  not  informed  whether  the  disasters 
of  this  war  cured  Semiramis  of  her  passion  for  mili- 
tary glory ;  and  all  the  researches  of  antiquarians 
have  not  enabled  us  to  distinguish  the  vague  and 
poetical  from  the  true,  or  at  least  the  probable  events 
in  the  remainder  of  her  story.  We  have  no  account 
of  the  state  of  manners  and  morals  during  her  reign, 
and  of  the  progress  of  civilization  we  can  only  judge 
by  the  great  works  imputed  to  her.  Among  the  va- 
rious accounts  of  her  death  the  following  is  the  most 
probable ;-— An  oracle  had  foretold  that  Semiramis 
should  reign  until  her  son  Ninias  conspired  against 
her;  and  after  her  return  from  her  Indian  expe- 
dition she  discovered  that  Ninias  had  been  plotting 
her  destruction.  She  immediately  called  to  mind 
the  words  of  the  oracle,  and,  without  attempting  to 
resist  his  designs,  abdicated  the  throne  at  once,  and 
retired  from  the  world ;  or,  according  to  others,  she 
was  put  to  death  by  her  son,  after  a  reign  of  forty- 
two  years.  The  Assyrians  paid  her  divine  honours 
under  the  form  of  a  pigeon. 

In  her  private  hfe,  Semiramis  has  been  represented 
as  a  monster  of  profligacy.  We  are  told  that  she 
had  a  succession  of  lovers,  who  were  devoted  one 
after  another  to  death ;  and  that  her  son  slew  her, 
at  length,  as  the  only  means  of  avoiding  even  a 
worse  crime. 

These  accounts  are  rejected  by  other  authors  a? 


CLEOPATRA.  3j 

fabulous.  It  appears,  however,  that  among  the  mag- 
nificent works  and  great  achievements  imputed  to 
Semiramis,  no  one  virtue,  no  trait  of  feminine  feel- 
ing has  been  recorded  by  historians  to  redeem  the 
portrait  of  this  Eastern  conqueress,  who  founded 
cities  and  turned  the  course  of  rivers,  from  those 
atrocious  features,  which  stamp  her  in  our  imagina- 
tions as  the  "  incestuous  beldame,"  "  the  homicide 
and  husband-killer,"  of  the  poets. 


Another  famous  Assyrian  queen  is  recorded  to 
have  lived  two  or  three  centuries  after  Semiram's ; 
her  name  was  Nitocris ;  she  dug  a  new  channel  for 
the  river  Euphrates,  by  which  the  navigation  of  the 
river  was  greatly  improved  ;  she  also  distinguished 
herself  by  her  conquests  over  the  neighbouring  na- 
tions, and  left  behind  her  many  stupendous  edifices. 
What  strikes  us  as  most  remarkable  in  all  this  is, 
the  extraordinary  fact,  and  the  only  one  on  which 
we  can  depend,  that  in  those  early  periods  of  the 
world,  in  countries  where  the  women  have  for  ages 
been  kept  either  in  seclusion  or  in  slavery,  and  in  a 
dynasty  of  kings  notorious  for  their  extreme  effemi- 
nacy, two  women  should  have  held  such  powerful 
sway,  and  have  planned  and  executed  works  of  such 
amazing  grandeur  and  utility. 


CLEOPATRA, 

QUEEN    OF    EGYPT. 


Cleopatra  presents  herself  to  our  fancy  in  fine 
contrast  with  Semiramis.  While  the  majesty  of 
Assyria,  "  in  sceptred  pall  comes  sweeping  by,"  ? 
mighty  but  vague  impersonation  of  power,  guilt,  and 


82  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

grandeur,  Cleopatra  stands  before  us  a  vivid  reality 
combining  with  her  historical  and  classical  celebrity 
all  the  interest  that  poetry,  romance,  and  the  arts 
could  throw  around  her.  As  a  woman,  she  can 
scarcely  be  said  to  claim  either  our  sympathy  or  our 
respect ;  as  a  sovereign,  she  neither  achieved  great 
exploits  nor  great  conquests,  nor  left  behind  her  any 
magnificent  or  enduring  monuments  of  her  power — 
but  she  has  left  behind  her  a  name,  which  still  acts 
as  a  spell  upon  the  fancy.  There  have  been  five 
or  six  Cleopatras  conspicuous  in  the  dynasties  of 
Egypt  and  Syria,  either  for  their  crimes  or  their  mis- 
fortunes ;  but  Fame  seems  to  acknowledge  but  one, 
and  with  her  celebrity  has  filled  the  world. 

Cleopatra,  Queen  of  Egypt,  was  the  second  daugh- 
ter of  Ptolemy  Auletes,  and  born  in  the  year  of 
Rome  683,  or  about  sixty-nine  years  before  the 
Christian  era. 

On  the  division  of  Alexander's  empire  among  his 
generals,  Egypt  had  fallen  to  the  share  of  Ptolemy 
Lagus ;  and  his  posterity,  all  bearing  the  name  of 
Ptolemy,  continued  to  govern  that  country  during  a 
period  of  two  hundred  and  ninety  years.  This  dynasty 
of  sovereigns,  which  had  produced  several  wise  and 
great  princes,  had  been  gradually  degenerating,  and 
seemed  to  have  arrived  at  the  lowest  depth  of  deg- 
radation in  the  person  of  Ptolemy  Auletes,  of 
whom  it  is  recorded  that  his  highest  accomplish- 
ment consisted  in  playing  wonderfully  well  upon 
the  flute.  His  avarice,  folly,  and  misgovernmeut 
rendered  him  at  length  so  hateful  and  contemptible 
to  his  people,  that  they  drove  him  from  the  throne, 
and  conferrea  the  supreme  power  on  his  eldest 
daughter  Berenice  and  her  husband  Archelaus. 

Ptolemy  immediately  threw  himself  on  the  pro- 
tection of  the  Romans,  and  Pompey,  then  at  the 
head  of  affairs,  warmly  espoused  the  cause  of  the 
fallen  monarch.     Through  his  good  offices,  and  the 


CLEOPATRA.  33 

intervention  of  the  Roman  power,  which  was  then 
irresistible,  Ptolemy  was  replaced  on  his  throne. 
On  his  return  to  Egypty  his  first  action  was  to  put 
to  death  his  daughter  Berenice  and  her  husband ; 
but  domestic  murders  had  become  so  common  in 
the  family  of  the  Ptolemies,  that  this  event  excited 
neither  surprise  nor  horror.  He  afterward  reigned 
tranquilly  for  four  years,  and  dying,  bequeathed  his 
throne  to  his  second  daughter  Cleopatra,  and  his 
eldest  son  Ptolemy  Dionysius,  who  were  to  reign 
jointly  as  king  and  queen,  under  the  guardianship 
of  the  Roman  Senate. 

At  the  time  that  the  sovereignty  of  Egypt  de- 
volved on  Cleopatra  *  and  her  brother,  she  was 
about  fourteen,  and  he  was  three  or  four  years 
younger.  Ptolemy  was  of  a  feeble,  indolent,  and 
vacillating  temper ;  Cleopatra,  on  the  contrary,  had 
already  displayed  the  most  extraordinary  talents, 
which,  combined  v/ith  an  aspiring  and  energetic 
spirit,  rendered  her  an  object  of  jealousy  to  the  vile 
courtiers  who  surrounded  her  brother.  Theodoras 
his  tutor,  Achilles  his  general,  and  Photinus  his 
chamberlain,  divided  the  administration  among  them, 
and  succeeded  in  sowing  dissension  between  the 
young  king  and  queen,  by  infusing  into  the  mind  of 
Ptolemy  a  jealcn^is  fear  of  his  sister's  superiority^ 
At  length  Cleopatra,  either  in  real  or  pretended  fear 
of  her  life  from  the  intrigues  of  these  men,  fled 
from  Alexandria,  and  retired  with  her  adherents  into 
Syria. 

Here  the  number  of  her  friends  and  followers 
daily  increased ;  those  who  were  not  attached  to 
her  cause  from  conviction,  or  a  sense  of  justice, 
were  won  by  those  arts  of  blandishment  in  which 
she  is  said  to  have  excelled  even  from  her  child- 
hood ;  by  her  persuasive  eloquence,  and  more  per- 
<>uasive  gifts.  Her  accomphshments  rendered  her 
an  object  of  admiration,  and  her  extreme  youth  of 


34  FEMALE     SOVEREIGNS. 

sympathy  and  commiseration.  We  are  not  told 
who  were  the  ministers  and  advisers  of  Cleopatra 
at  this  period,  but  her  measures  were  concerted 
with  so  much  wisdom,  and  executed  with  so  much 
energy  and  promptitude,  that  in  spite  of  all  we*  are 
told  of  her  precocious  intellect  and  singular  powers, 
we  can  scarcely  believe  them  to  have  emanated 
entirely  from  herself.  At  the  time  of  her  retreat 
to  Syria  she  was  not  more  than  sixteen, — an  age  at 
which  a  woman  is  sometimes  a  finished  coquette 
"  par  instinct,?'  but  seldom  a  bold  and  practised 
diplomatist. 

She  despatched,  in  the  first  place,  ambassadors  to 
Rome,  to  justify  herself  before  the  Senate,  and  com- 
plain of  the  conduct  of  Achilles  and  Photinus,  whom 
she  denounced  as  traitors  to  her  government,  and 
enemies  of  the  Roman  people ;  and  as  at  this  time 
Pompey  and  Caesar  were  contending  for  empire,  she 
sent  to  Pompey,  the  benefactor  of  her  family,  a  re- 
inforcement of  fifty  galleys,  manned  and  armed 
After  some  time  had  elapsed  without  any  answei 
from  the  Senate,  Cleopatra  found  that  the  Romans 
were  too  much  occupied  with  their  ow^i  intestine 
dissensions  to  attend  to  the  affairs  of  Egypt ;  she 
therefore  took  her  cause  into  her  own  hands,  and 
levied  an  arm^^,  at  the  head  of  W'liich  she  boldly 
marched  into  Egypt  to  claim  her  rights.  Ptolemy, 
or  rather  his  ministers  (for  he  was  then  only  thir- 
teen), raised  an  army  to  oppose  her,  and  stationed 
himself  at  Pelusium,  a  celebrated  fortress  at  the 
entrance  of  the  Nile.  At  this  juncture  occurred  the 
battle  of  Pharsalia,  which  rendered  Caesar  the  sole 
and  undisputed  master  of  the  vast  resources  of  the 
Roman  em.pire.  Pompey,  pursued  or  rather  con- 
ducted by  his  evil  destinies,  fled  from  the  plains  of 
Thessaly,  and  sought  a  refuge  in  Egypt;  trusting— 
vamly  trusting — that  the  favours  he  had  formerly 
heaped  on  the  family  of  Ptolemy  would  give  hixa 


CLEOPATRA.  36 

the  strongest  claim  to  the  hospitaUty  and  protection 
of  the  Egyptians. 

But  the  news  of  the  battle  had  arrived  before  him, 
and  with  it  the  intelligence  that  Caesar  was  pursuing 
his  fallen  adversary  to  the  shores  of  Egypt.  The 
perfidious  ministers  of  Ptolemy  resolved  to  aban- 
don the  weaker  side,  and  to  bespeak  the  friendship 
of  the  conqueror  by  the  sacrifice  of  his  great  rival : 
the  well-known  catastrophe  need  hardly  be  repeated 
here.  Pompey  was  basely  assassinated  at  the  mo- 
ment of  his  landing,  and  his  head  and  signet-ring 
were  presented  to  Caesar  as  the  most  acceptable 
gifts  which  could  be  offered  to  him,  and  the  most 
expressive  homage  to  his  pov/er.  Caesar  would 
probably  have  taken  signal  vengeance  on  the  mur- 
derers, if  the  small  number  of  his  troops  had  not 
obliged  him,  from  prudential  motives,  to  restrain  his 
indignation ;  he  contented  himself,  therefore,  by 
merely  issuing  his  commands,  in  the  name  of  the 
Roman  people,  that  Cleopatra  and  iier  brother  should 
appear  before  him,  and  submit  their  differences  to 
his  arbitration. 

Cleopatra  was  at  this  time  between  sixteen  and 
seventeen.  She  was  not,  by  all  accounts,  so  beautiful 
in  person,  as  she  was  graceful  and  captivating  in 
manner :  but  the  melody  of  her  voice,  the  bright- 
ness of  her  smiles,  the  various  accomplishments  of 
her  mind,  and  a  peculiar  art  of  adapting  herself  to 
the  individual  tastes  and  habits  of  those  she  addressed, 
formed  that  combination  of  charms  by  which 
she  subdued  all  who  approached  her.  She  was  fond 
of  learning,  and  a  patroness  of  learned  men  ;  had 
studied  with  success  the  Greek  philosophy  and  lite- 
rature, and  spoke  ten  different  languages  with  equal 
fluency.  But  she  had  been  educated  in  a  most  cor- 
rupt court,  and  imbibed  its  vices :  from  her  child- 
hood she  had  been  immersed  in  vile  intrigues,  and 
in  continual  struggles  for  power.  She  was  dissem- 
bling, ambitious,  vajn,  perverse,  and  utterly  unprin- 


36  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

cipled ;  prosenting  a  strange  mixture  of  talent  and 
frivolity,  of  firmness  and  caprice,  of  magnanimity 
and  artifice,  of  royal  pride  and  more  than  feminine 
weakness. 

She  had  made  herself  well  acquainted  with  the 
character  of  Caesar,  and  she  resolved  not  to  trust  only 
to  the  justice  of  her  cause,  but,  if  possible,  to  inter- 
est him  personally  in  her  favour  before  he  should  be 
called  on  to  give  judgment  in  her  aflfairs.  Caesar 
was  so  surrounded  by  the  minions  of  Ptolemy,  that 
it  was  difficult  to  enter  the  palace,  or  to  procure  ac- 
cess to  him  in  private.  But  to  compass  her  object 
no  instrument  was  too  mean,  no  expedient  too  de- 
grading, no  sacrifice  too  great,  though  it  should  in- 
clude that  of  her  sex's  honour,  as  well  as  of  her 
queenly  dignity.  She  procured  the  assistance  of  a 
chamberlain  named  ApoUodorus,  and  he  conveyed 
her  on  his  back,  concealed  in  a  mattress  or  a  bundle 
of  linen,  to  the  very  apartment  of  Caesar.  If  the 
Roman  general  was  surprised  by  this  unexpected 
introduction,  he  was  not  less  struck  by  the  boldness 
and  dexterity  with  which  she  had  obtained  access 
to  him.  But  when  Cleopatra  threw  herself,  all 
bathed  in  tears,  at  his  feet,  he  was  no  longer  able  to 
resist  her.  In  a  speech  of  the  most  artful  and  per 
suasive  eloquence  she  expatiated  on  the  injustice  of 
her  enemies;  she  recapitulated  the  injuries  and  in- 
dignities she  had  endured  from  the  minions  of  her 
brother;  she  defended  herself  on  the  plea  of  policy 
and  gratitude  for  the  assistance  she  had  sent  to 
Pompey,  the  friend  of  her  family ;  and  concluded  by 
appealing,  as  a  defenceless  woman  and  an  injurea 
queen,  to  the  generosity  and  compassion  of  the  Ro- 
man general.  The  appeal  was  not  made  in  vain. 
Caesar  was  captivated  by  her  charms  and  her  elo- 
quence ;  he  not  only  promised  his  favour  and  protec- 
tion, but  he  proffered  love,  and  laid  himself  and  his 
power  at  her  feet.  A  few  days  after  this  first  inter- 
/iew  he   commanded   that  the  -.brother  and  sistei 


CLKOPATKA.  37 

should  disband  their  respective  armies,  and  submit 
entirely  to  iiis  judgment.  Cleopatra  was  well  con- 
tent to  leave  her  destinies  in  the  hands  of  a  man 
who  was  so  completely  subdued  to  her  power  as  to 
have  no  will  but  hers.  But  the  adherents  of  Ptole- 
my were  not  so  inclined.  They  exclaimed  against 
the  insolence  of  a  man  who  attempted  to  dictate 
laws  to  them  in  their  own  capital,  as  if  he  had  been 
their  conqueror  rather  than  their  friend  and  all}^ 
They  could  easily  guess  at  the  means  by  which  Cleo- 
patra had  seduced  her  judge;  and  Ptolemy,  filling 
the  city  with  his  just  complaints,  excited  the  people 
of  Alexandria  to  attack  Csesar  in  the  palace.  Many 
engagements  took  place,  in  which  both  Cleopatra  and 
Czesar  were  exposed  to  the  most  imminent  dangers. 
The  young  queen  showed  herself  worthy  of  the  con- 
fidence and  affection  of  Caesar  during  thisteirible 
emergency ;  and  by  her  advice,  her  presence  of 
mind,  and  her  knowledge  of  the  people  and  the  coun- 
try, rendered  him  the  most  essential  services. 

The  insurrection  was  at  length  quelled,  after  many 
vicissitudes  of  fortune  and  much  bloodshed.  The 
famous  Alexandrian  hbrary  being  accidentally  set 
on  fire  in  one  of  these  encounters,  forty  thousand 
volumes  were  consumed  before  the  conflagration 
was  extinguished. 

Two  of  Cleopatra's  most  deadly  enemies  had 
perished  during  this  short  war :  Photinus  had  been 
put  to  death  by  Caesar,  not  without  just  provocation 
and  Achilles  had  been  murdered  by  the  orders  jf 
Arsinoe,  the  younger  sister  of  Cleopatra,  who  nad 
joined  the  rebels  against  her.  Ptolemy,  who  had 
given  early  proofs  both  of  wickedness  and  weak- 
ness, was  afterward  accidentally  drowned  by  the 
sinking  of  a  galley ;  and  all  Egypt  submitted  to  the 
conqueror. 

Tranquillity  being  thus  restored,  Caesar  undertook 
a  progress  through  Eg>^pt  in  company  with  Cleopa- 
tra.    They  ascended  the  Nile  together  in  the  sam« 

I.— C 


38  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

vessel,  followed  by  a  splendid  retinue  ;  and  it  is  said 
that  Caesar  would  have  proceeded  with  her  beyond 
the  cataracts  into  Ethiopia  if  his  veteran  troops  had 
not  refused  to  follow  him.  The^^  blushed  to  behold 
their  general,  who  had  so  often  led  them  to  victory, 
abandoned  to  luxury^  and  indolence,  and  completely 
in  the  power  of  an  artful  and  ambitious  woman. 
Thsy  returned,  therefore,  to  Alexandria,  and  soon 
afterward  Caesar  was  called  by  the  state  of  affairs 
into  Armenia  and  Cappadocia.  Previous  to  his  de- 
parture, he  caused  Cleopatra  and  her  only  surviving 
brother,  the  younger  Ptolemy,  then  about  eleven 
years  old,  to  be  proclaimed  King  and  Queen  of  Egypt. 
His  son  by  Cleopatra,  to  whom  the  Alexandrians 
had  given  the  name  of  Caesarion,  he  declared  heir  to 
the  Egyptian  crown ;  and  then,  taking  leave  of  his 
enchanting  queen  with  regret,  he  conducted  his  le- 
gions against  Pharnaces,  King  of  Pontus 

Young  Ptolemy  died  a  short  time  afterward,  and 
it  is  supposed  by  some  authors  that  Cleopatra  poi- 
soned him,  either  to  reign  alone,  or  to  ensure  the 
undisputed  succession  to  her  son  Ceesarion.  If  we 
may  judge  from  her  character,  and  the  frequency  of 
such  crimes  in  her  family,  she  was  not  incapable  of 
the  atrocity  imputed  to  her  if  it  would  have  answered 
any  purpose.  But  it  is  fair  to  remark,  that  the  ac- 
cusation does  not  rest  on  historic  proof;  and  to  cause 
the  death  of  an  unoffending  and  helpless  child  with- 
out some  more  adequate  motive  bespeaks  a  heart 
more  completely  hardened  against  the  natural  affec- 
tions than  Cleopatra  ever  exhibited. 

During  a  period  of  twelve  years,  that  is,  from  the 
departure  of  Caesar  to  the  rupture  between  Octavius 
and  Mark  Antony,  Cleopatra  continued  to  rule  her 
kuigdom  in  great  splendour  and  prosperity.  Either 
through  a  natural  taste  for  magnificence,  or  a  belief 
that  the  vulgar  are  imposed  on  and  governed  by 
means  of  outward  show,  she  never  appeared  in  jaib- 
lic  but  with  the  most  dazzling  pomp.     She  even  as- 


CLEOPATRA.  39 

stimed  the  habiliments  and  headdress  of  the  gcddess 
Isis.  the  principal  divinity  of  the  Egyptians,  and  she 
was  thus  represented  in  her  coins  and  statues.  Very 
little  i-s  recorded  of  the  life  and  actions  of  Cleopatra 
during:  this  time  ;  but  it  appears  incidentally  that  she 
governed  in  such  a  manner  as  to  secure  the  aflfectiou 
and  reverence  of  her  people,  and  the  respect  of  the 
neighbouring-  nations,  some  of  whom  submitted  vol- 
untarily to  her  power,  and  others  chose  her  as  the 
arbitress  of  their  mutual  differences.  She  did  not 
attempt  to  extend  her  dominion  by  force  of  arms, 
but  rather  by  policy  and  prudence.  A  disposition  to 
violence,  or  even  personal  courage,  formed  no  part 
of  the  character  of  Cleopatra;  and  her  ambition, 
though  unbounded,  was  never  warlike.  She  was 
luxurious  and  magnificent,  but  not  indolent;  she 
transacted  all  affairs,  gave  audience  to  ambassadors, 
and  administered  justice  in  person.  She  made  a 
journey  to  Rome  in  the  j^ear  46  B.  C.  to  congratu- 
late Caesar  on  his  Asiatic  triumphs ;  and  on  this  oc- 
casion she  displayed  all  that  profuse  magnificence 
for  which  she  was  remarkable.  She  presented  to 
Cffisar  and  to  the  Roman  people  gifts  of  extraordi- 
nary value,  rare  pictures,  sculpture,  gems,  gold,  and 
tapestries,  which  Avere  deposited  in  the  Capitol ;  and 
Caesar  returned  the  compliment  by  placing  her  statu 
in  massive  gold  on  the  right-hand  of  Venus,  in  the 
temple  of  that  goddess. 

Within  two  years  after  this  memorable  visit  Caesar 
was  assassinated  in  the  Capitol.  We  are  not  told 
how  Cleopatra  received  the  intelligence  of  his  fate, 
or  whether  she  was  deeply  affected  by  the  violent 
death  of  one  who  had  been  her  friend,  protector,  and 
lover;  but  it  appears  that  '^bout  this  time  Sextus 
Pompey  visited  her  in  Egypt,  where  he  was  enter- 
tained with  magnificence  ;  and  that  she  attached  him 
to  her  interests  by  the  same  means  which  she  had 
found  so  successful  with  others.  Young  Pompey 
was  at  this  period  master  of  the  whole  Mediterra- 


40  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

nean ;  his  victorious  and  innumerable  galleys  swept 
the  seas ;  and  at  a  crisis  when  the  death  of  Caesar 
eft  her  without  a  protector  at  Rome,  Cleopatra  felt 
all  the  advantage  of  securing  such  a  partisan,  and, 
as  usual,  was  not  scrupulous  about  the  means  she 
employed  for  that  purpose.  It  was  her  connexion 
with  Pompey  which  exposed  her  to  the  accusation 
of  having  aided  the  conspirators  with  money  and 
arms  after  the  death  of  Caesar.  This  accusation 
whether  true  or  false — and  one  would  wish  for  the 
honour  of  female  nature  to  believe  it  false — led  to 
the  celebrated  attachment  between  Mark  Antony 
and  Cleopatra,  which  ended  in  the  destruction  of 
both,  and  has  rendered  their  names  for  ever  insepa 
rable  in  the  memory  of  man. 

The  occasion  of  their  first  meeting  was  this:— ' 
After  the  battle  of  Philippi,  in  which  Brutus  and 
Cassius  were  defeated,  Antony  had  taken  the  com- 
mand of  the  army  against  the  Parthians,  and,  on 
leaving  Greece  to'  pass  into  Asia,  he  sent  orders  to 
Cleopatra  to  meet  him  in  Cilicia,  and  justify  herself 
against  the  accusation  of  having  assisted  Brutus  and 
Cassius  in  their  war  against  ihe  triumvirate.  The 
queen  prepared  to  obey  this  haughty  summons,  but 
she  trusted  more  to  her  address  and  her  personal 
charms  than  to  the  justice  of  her  cause ;  and  being 
perfectly  acquainted  with  the  character  of  the  man 
to  wiiom  she  was  about  to  introduce  herself,  did  not 
despair  of  subduing  Antony  by  the  same  arts  which 
had  already  vanquished  Caesar.  Attended  by  a  nu- 
merous and  splendid  retinue,  and  loaded  with  a 
world  of  treasures  and  gifts,  and  store  of  gold  and 
silver,  she  proceeded  through  Syria  to  meet  Antony 
in  Asia  Minor ;  and  though  she  was  frequently  in- 
formed that  he  waited  her  arrival  with  impatience, 
she  did  not  condescend  to  hasten  her  progress ;  but 
mocking  at  his  letters  and  messengers  with  a  smil- 
ing grace,  travelled  with  pomp  and  leisure,  as  one 
who  was  about  to  confer  an  honour  on  an  inferior 


n.EOPATRA.  41 

rather  than  to  obey  the  summons  of  a  superior.  On 
her  arrival  in  Cilicia,  she  embarked  on  the  rivei 
Cydnus,  to  sail  down  to  Tarsus ;  and  this  triumphant 
and  maj^nificent  vo^^age  has  become,  from  the  de- 
scriptions of  Shakspeare  and  Dryden,  famous  in  po- 
etry as  well  as  in  history, — although  poetry  itself 
could  scarcely  enhance  the  gorgeousness  of  the  pic- 
ture. The  poop  of  the  galley  was  of  gold,  the  sails 
of  purple  silk,  and  the  silver  oars*  kept  time  to  the 
sound  of  various  musical  instruments,  which  breathed 
the  most  delicious  harmony.  The  Queen  of  Egypt 
lay  reclined  on  a  couch,  under  a  canopy  of  cloth  of 
gold,  crowned  and  attired  like  the  goddess  Venus, 
while  beautiful  boys  winged  to  represent  Cupids 
stood  fanning  her  on  either  ^de ;  the  fairest  among 
her  maids,  some  habited  like  the  Nereids,  and  others 
iike  the  Graces,  were  employed  in  the  steerage  and 
management  of  the  vessel ;  altars  were  raised  and 
incense  was  burned  along  the  shores,  w^hich  were 
covered  with  multitudes  of  people,  who  crowded  to 
gaze  on  the  splendid  pageant,  and  filled  the  air  with 
acclamations. 

Presently  a  rumour  was  spread  abroad  that  Venus 
was  come  to  feast  with  Bacchus,  and  the  whole 
populace  of  the  city  of  Tarsus  poured  forth  to  meet 
and  receive  her.  Antony  invited  her  to  supper,  but 
she  sent  him  word  that  he  should  rather  wait  upon 
her;  that  she  was  too  fatigued  to  land,  and  would 
have  the  pleasure  of  receiving  and  entertaining  him 
on  board  her  galley ;  in  short,  she  assumed  from  the 
first  the  airs,  not  only  of  a  queen,  but  of  a  divinity. 
How  well  she. understood  the  temper  of  the  man  she 
sought  to  captivate  by  ail  this  gorgeous  display  of 
oriental  pomp  and  grandeur  is  shown  by  her  success. 
Antony,  like  Caesar,  had  begun  by  being  her  judge 

'  I  remember  to  have  read  some-Aiiere,  though  I  cannctt  refer  to  the 
authority,  tlwt  the  silver  oars  of  f'leopatra's  barge  were  pierced  at  the 
extremities  with  holes  of  different  sizes,  and  so  mechanically  contrived, 
that  the  water,  as  it  flowed  through  them  at  every  stroke,  produced  a 
harmony  in  coucord  with  that  of  the  flutes  and  Ivres  on  board 

T)2 


42  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

and  the  arbitrator  of  her  fate,  and  he  ended  by  be- 
coming the  veriest  slave  that  ever  was  chained'  tO'  a 
woman's  footstool.  At  the  time  of  his  first  meeting 
with  Cleopatra  the  triumvir  was  past  the  meridian 
of  life.  He  was  in  his  forty-eighth  year,  "  of  a  no- 
ble presence,  a  graceful  length  of  beard,  an  ample 
forehead,  and  an  aquiline  nose;"  he  was  thought  to 
resemble  in  his  person  the  pictures  and  statues  of 
Hercules,  and  was  in  fact  vain  of  his  supposed  de- 
scent from  that  hero.  In  his  character  he  was  fear- 
essly  brave,  open-hearted,  and  magnificent ;  but  ar- 
rogant, vindictive,  and  abandoned  to  every  species 
of  dissolute  excess.  He  appeared  by  turns,  as  the 
humour  seized  him,  generous  and  compassionate,  or 
base,  selfish,  and  relentless;  could  devote  his  life 
and  fortune  to  the  service  of  a  friend,  or  insult  over 
the  remains  of  a  murdered  enemy; — and  that  enemy 
Cicero!  On  the  whole,  he  appears  to  have  been 
without  one  touch  of  true  magnanimity,  though 
sometimes  irregularly  great  from  accident  or  im- 
pulse:  a  magnificent,  reckless  libertine;  a  vahant 
but  a  coarse  soldier.  Cleopatra,  laying  aside  her 
literary  pursuits,  her  refined  elegance,  and  the  many- 
coloured  robe  and  majestic  deportm.ent  of  the  god- 
dess Isis,  lent  herself  to  all  his  rough  tastes  :  drank, 
and  revelled,  and  jested  with  him ;  hunted  half  the 
day,  banqueted  half  the  night ;  and  surpassed  him 
in  prodigahty  and  magnificence.  Antony  put  off  for 
her  sake  his  Parthian  expedition^  and  she  led  him  in 
triumph  to  Alexandria. 

Many  anecdotes  are  told  of  the  riotous  and  ex 
travagant  life  which  they  led  for  several  months  in 
the  capital  of  Egypt,  vying  with  each  other  in  dissi- 
pation and  reve-iry ;  while  treasures  wrung  from  the 
blood  and  tears  of  thousands  of  human  beings  were 
lavished  at  a  single  feast.  The  famous  story  of 
Cleopatra's  pearl  is  so  often  alluded  to  in  history 
and  poetry,  besides  being  a  favourite  subject  of  paint- 
ers and  sculptors,,  that  it  ought  to  be  mentioned  here. 


CLEOPATRA.  43 

It  's  said  that  Antony  having  once  boasted  of  the 
splendour  of  an  entertainment  he  had  ^iven  to  the 
queen,  she  laid  him  a  wager  that  she  would  serve 
up  to  him  a  banquet  of  such  exceeding-  magnificence, 
that  one  single  course  should  be  of  more  cost  tlian 
all  his  feasts  put  together.  Lucius  Plancus  was 
chosen  as  umpire.  Cleopatra  was  accustomed  to 
wear  in  her  ears  two  pearls  unequalled  in  the  world 
for  their  size,  beauty,  and  value,  the  least  of  which 
was  valued  at  50,000/.  of  English  money.  When  she 
was  seated  at  the  table  with  Antony,  she  took  one 
of  these  pearls  from  her  ear,  and,  dissolving  it  in  a 
cup  of  vinegar,  pledged  Antony,  and  drank  it  off. 
She  v/as  about  to  treat  the  remaining  pearl  in  the 
same  manner,  when  Antony,  in  amazement,  stopped 
her  hand,  and  Lucius  Plancus  declared  that  she  had 
already  won  the  wager.  Such  is  the  story  handed 
down  to  us  from  antiquity.  That  a  woman  like  Cle- 
opatra should  sacrifice  50,000/.  or  100,000/.  for  a 
whim  is  not  absolutely  incredible ;  but  an  acid  of 
sufficient  strength  to  melt  a"  pearl  instantaneously 
could  not  be  swallowed  with  impunity.  Cleopatra, 
if  she  did  dissolve  her  pearl,  must  have  diluted  her 
cup  with  two  or  three  bowls  of  wine.  The  other 
pearl,  which  had  -been  the  companion  of  that  which 
Cleopatra  had  sacrifiiced  with  a  kind  of  sublime  os- 
tentation, was  afterward  carried  to  Rome,  where  it 
was  divided  into  two,  each  almost  inestimable,  and 
hung  in  the  ears  of  a  celebrated  statue  of  Venus 
which  Agrippa  had  just  placed  in  his  Pantheon. 

The  life  which  Mark  Antony  led  with  Cleopatra 
displeased  Octavius  and  the  Roman  people.  They 
called  upon  him  to  return,  and  at  length  the  trium- 
vir, rousing  himself  as  from  a  lethargy,  set  out  for 
Italy.  There  a  reconciliation  was  effected  between 
the  rival  generals,  and  one  of  the  conditions  was  the 
marriage  of  Antony  with  Octavia,  the  half-sister  of 
Octavius,  and  a  woman  of  equal  beauty  and  virtue. 
Cleopatra  heard  of  this  union  with  grief  and  despair; 


44  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

she  feared  that  it  would  put  an  end  to  her  power 
over  Antony, — a  power  which  rendered  her,  in  fact, 
mistress  of  half  the  Roman  empire ;  and  it  is  certain 
that  the  idea  of  reigning  at  Rome,  and  dictating 
laws  from  the  Capitol,  had  taken  strong  possession 
of  her  ambitious  mind  and  vivid  imagination.  She 
had  a  powerful  rival  in  Octavia,  whose  character  is 
one  of  the  most  beautiful  recorded  in  history,  unit- 
ing all  the  dignity  of  a  Roman  matron  in  the  best 
days  of  the  republic  with  all  the  gentleness  and 
graces  of  her  sex.  Though  the  marriage  had  been 
one  of  policy,  she  became  strongly  attached  to  her 
husband ;  and  Antony,  who  was  generous  as  well  as 
facile,  could  not  refuse  her  his  esteem  and  his  love. 
Octavia  became  the  mediating  angel  between  her 
fiery  husband  and  her  subtle  brother ;  and  for  four 
years  Antony  remained  faithful  to  this  admirable 
woman,  and  appeared  to  have  forgotten  his  Egyp- 
tian siren.  He  was,  however,  the  slave  of  circum- 
stance and  impulse ;  and  in  passing  through  Asia 
Minor  to  resume  the  Parthian  war,  his  old  love  for 
Cleopatra  seemed  to  revive  as  he  approached  the 
scenes  of  their  former  intercourse,  and  he  had  the 
weakness  to  send  Fonteius  Capit©  to  invite  her  to 
come  to  him. 

One  might  have  imagined  that  the  dignity  of  an 
offended  woman,  if  not  the  pride  of  a  great  queen, 
would  have  prevented  Cleopatra  from  obeying  this 
invitation,  or  rather  this  command ;  but  neither  the 
one  nor  the  other  was  ever  known  to  stand  in  the 
way  of  her  passions  or  her  policy.  She  did  not 
hesitate  to  attend  him ;  and  this  time  she  travelled 
with  rather  more  expedition  than  on  a  former  occa- 
sion. On  her  arrival  Antony  presented  her  with 
gifts ;  not  rings,  nor  jewels,  nor  slaves,  nor  chariots, 
nor  rich  robes,  but  whole  kingdoms  and  provinces, 
and  millions  of  subjects.  He  gave  her  Phoenicia, 
Coelo-syria,  the  island  of  Cyprus,  Cilicia,  part  of 
Judea,  and  part  of  Arabia.     As  all  the  Asiatic  prov- 


CLEOPATRA.  45 

mces,  from  the  Ionian  Sea  eastward,  had  been  given 
up  to  Antony  as  his  share  of  the  empire,  he  might 
perhaps  snppose  that  in  bestowing  these  dominions 
on  Cleopatra  he  was  onlj'^  presenting  lier  with  what, 
in  the  insolence  of  power,  he  deemed  his  own  ;  and. 
it  may  be  added,  that  several  of  these  provinces 
formed  part  of  the  ancient  empire  of  the  Ptolemies. 
The  Parthian  war  (B.  C.  36)  ended  disgracefully ; 
Antony,  after  many  disasters,  was  forced  to  retreat, 
and  had  nearly  suffered  the  fate  of  Crassus.  He 
brought  the  miserable  remains  of  his  army  back  to 
Syria,  and  Cleopatra  met  him  on  the  coast  of  Judea, 
carrying  with  her  money  and  clothing  for  his  ex- 
hausted troops.  Octavia  also  set  out  from  Rome  to 
meet  Antony,  taking  with  her  reinforcements  in 
men  and  money  to  assist  him ;  but  when  she  had 
reached  Athens,  Antony,  acting  under  the  spell  of 
the  sorceress  who  had  subdued  his  better  nature, 
commanded  her  to  return  to  Italy.  Cleopatra 
dreaded  the  power  of  Octavia ;  she  felt,  or  she  af- 
fected, the  deepest  atfliction  at  the  idea  of  his  leaving 
her,  and  her  "flickering enticements,"  to  borrow  the 
expression  of  the  old  translator  of  Plutarch,  are  well 
described,  and  give  us  a  complete  idea  of  the  woman. 
She  pretended  to  be  the  victim  of  a  concealed  grief; 
wasted  her  frame  by  voluntary  abstinence,  and 
"  caused  herself  to  be  surprised"  in  tears,  which  she 
wiped  away  in  haste,  as  if  unwilling  that  they  should 
be  seen.  Meantime  those  who  were  devoted  to  her 
interest  were  incessantly  representing  her  sufferings 
to  Antony,  and  appealing  to  his  pity  in  behalf  of  a 
woman  who  loved  him  more  than  life  or  fame  ;  who 
had  sacrificed  the  one,  and  was  ready  to  sacrifice 
the  other  for  his  sake.  Such  artifices  subdued  An- 
tony, as  they  have  wrought  on  better  and  wiser 
men ;  and  in  the  height  of  his  infatuation  he  sent 
peremptory  orders  to  Octavia  to  quit  his  house  at 
Rome.  The  lavish  gifts  bestowed  on  Cleopatra 
without  the  sanction  of  the  Roman  state,  the  dere- 


4G  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

liction  of  all  his  duties  as  a  general  and  citizen,  and 
now  tlie  indignities  heaped  on  his  excellent  wife, 
the  noblest  lady  in  character  and  station  in  the  em- 
pire, exasperated  the  Romans,  and  lent  the  fairest 
excuse  to  Octavius  Caesar  for  the  breach  he  had  long 
meditated.  Octavia,  the  ever-generous,  ever-ad- 
mirable Octavia,  entreated  her  brother  not  to  make 
her  wrongs  the  excuse  for  a  war  which  v/ould  plunge 
the  whole  empire  into  confusion ;  and  when  her 
prayers  availed  not,  she  shut  herself  up  in  her  house, 
devoted  herself  to  her  children,  and  refused  to  take 
any  share  in  the  deplorable  contest  she  had  no  power 
to  avert.  It  soon  became  apparent  that  a  civil  war 
between  Octavius  and  Antony  was  inevitable.  They 
assembled  their  forces  by  sea  and  land,  and  Cleo- 
patra brought  to  the  assistance  of  Antony  two  hun- 
dred galleys,  twenty  thousand  talents,  and  provisions 
for  liis  whole  army.  While  these  warlike  prepara- 
tions were  going  forward,  they  spent  some  time  in 
the  island  of  Samos,  revelling  in  every  species  of 
luxury,  and  afterward  sailed  for  Athens,  where  the 
people  decreed  to  Cleopatra  public  honours. 

Antony  and  his  friends  had  requested  of  the  queen 
that  she  Vould  return  to  Egj^pt,  and  there  wait  the 
event  of  the  war ;  but  this  she  positively  refused, 
representing  that  as  she  was  one  of  Antony's  prin- 
cipal allies,  it  was  unreasonable  to  deny  her  the 
privilege  of  being  present,  and  commanding  her  own 
vessels  and  troops.  It  is  probable  that  she  dreaded 
a  reconciliation  between  the  rivals,  and  would  rather 
have  hazarded  all  on  the  issue  of  a  battle,  than  have 
run  the  risk  of  losing  her  power  over  Antony.  It 
was  in  compliance  with  her  wishes  that  he  resolved 
to  engage  Octavius  by  sea,  contrary  to  the  advice 
of  his  most  experienced  generals.  "  Her  motive," 
says  Plutarch,  "  was  not  the  superior  chance  of  vic- 
tory, but  in  case  of  being  vanquished,  the  better  op 
portunity  to  escape."  That  such  an  idea  should 
have  sugges-ted  itself  to  the  mind  of  a  woman  con- 


CLKOPATRA.  47 

stitutionally  timid  even  beyond  the  timidity  of  lier 
sex,  is  not  surprising ;  but  that  a  veteran  soldier  hke 
Antony  sliould  have  yielded  his  opinion  and  convic- 
tion to  her  upon  such  an  occasion  is  indeed  wonder- 
ful. It  was  a  saying  among  the  ancients,  that 
"those  whom  the  gods  wished  to  destroy, they  first 
deprived  of  understanding;"  and  the  infatuated  folly 
of  Antony  devoted  himself  and  thousands  of  brave 
men  to  destruction. 

The  sea-fight  of  Actium  took  place,  therefore, 
under  the  most  unfavourable  auspices.  Cleopatra 
insisted  on  being  present  at  the  engagement,  but  in 
the  very  outset  of  the  battle,  while  all  remained  as 
yet  undecided,  she  was  seized  with  a  sudden  panic, 
and  lier  sixty  galleys  were  beheld,  with  all  their  sails 
spread,  flying  from  the  combat.  This  derehclion, 
which  was  the  effect  of  fear  rather  than  treachery 
might  have  involved  only  Cleopatra  and  her  fol- 
lowers in  assured  destruction,  but  for  the  madness 
of  Antony,  who,  leaving  his  brave  friends,  his  army 
and  his  navy  to  their  fate,  sprang  into  a  five-oared 
galley,  and  followed  the  Queen  of  Egypt  in  her  igno- 
minious flight.  She  saw  him  approaching,  put  up  a 
signal  in  her  vessel,  and  took  him  on  board  ;  but 
both  were  so  overcome  with  shame  and  despair  that 
they  could  not  look  upon  each  other.  Antony  sat 
down  and  covered  his  face  with  his  hands,  and  Cleo- 
patra, retiring  to  the  opposite  extremity  of  the  ves- 
sel, wept,  while  she  gazed  upon  him,  and  had  not 
courage  to  address  him.  At  the  end  of  three  days 
their  attendants  succeeded  in  reconciling  them,  and 
they  sailed  for  Libya. 

Antony  remained  himself  for  some  time  in  Libya, 
abandoned  to  despair,  but  he  sent  forward  Cleopatra 
under  a  safe  convoy  to  Alexandria. 

It  has  already  been  observed  that  Cleopatra  had 
no  martial  spirit,  no  disposition  to  meet  violence 
with  violence ;  on  the  contrary,  she  was,  as  a  woman, 
"  born  to  fears  ;""  but  the  physical  cowardice  which 


18  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

caused  her  terrors  and  her  flight  at  Actium  was  ac- 
companied by  great  mental  activity  and  energy.  On 
her  arrival  in  her  own  capital  she  reflected  on  the 
situation  to  which  she  was  reduced,  and  she  saw 
that  only  two  alternatives  remained,  either  a  war 
which  she  was  incapable  of  conducting,  or  the  loss 
of  freedom  and  empire,  to  which  she  was  determined 
not  to  submit.  She  formed  an  extraordinary  and  a 
bold  resolution,  tinctured  indeed  with  the  egotism 
which  belonged  to  her  character,  but  such  as  would 
never  have  occurred  to  a  common  mind.  She  re- 
solved to  transport  her  galleys,  with  all  her  choicest 
t)  easures,  across  the  narrowest  part  of  the  Isthmus 
of  Suez  to  the  Red  Sea,  to  embark  therewith  her 
most  faithful  follov/ers,  and,  like  another  Dido,  sail 
in  quest  of  some  distant  and  hospitable  clime,  where 
she  might  found  a  nevv'  empire,  and  dwell  in  free- 
dom and  in  peace.  This  singular  enterprise  she 
would  probably  have  carried  into  execution,  but  it 
iiappened  that  the  first  vessels,  which  with  infinite 
fhi^kulty  had  been  drawn  across  the  isthmus,  were 
burit.^d  by  the  Arabs,  and  at  the  same  time  that  she 
eceived  this  information  Antony  arrived  in  Egypt, 
md  she  abandoned  all  thoughts  of  her  expedition. 
They  recommenced  their  former  mode  of  life,  and 
vvhile  destruction  was  gradually  closing  upon  them 
3n  every  side  like  a  net,  they  spent  their  time  in 
feasting  and  in  the  most  magnificent  and  luxurious 
amusements.  They  instituted  a  society  of  twelve 
or  fourteen  intimate  friends,  the  companions  of  their 
revels,  and  called  themselves  the  "  Inimitable  Band," 
a  title  which,  as  fortune  darkened  around  them,  they 
exchanged  for  another,  signifying  the  "  United  in 
Death.''' 

Meantime  Octavius  was  approaching  with  hia 
army,  and  their  adherents  were  daily  deserting  or 
betraying  them ;  in  this  emergenc}''  Cleopatra  sent 
an  ambassador  to  Octavius,  requesting  his  protectior 
for  her  children,  and  that  Egypt,  as  their  inheritance^ 


CLFOrAlRA.  49 

might  be  preserved  to  them.  She  did  not  ask  any 
thing  for  herself;  for  it  appears  lliat  even  at  this 
time  she  had  resolved  not  to  survive  her  power  and 
her  freedom.  Antony,  so  low  had  he  fallen,  asked 
his  life,  and  permission  to  retire  to  Athens.  Octa- 
vius  refused  to  hsten  to  the  petition  of  Antony  ;  but 
he  sent  his  freedman  Thyrsus  to  Cleopatra,  prom- 
ising her  every  possible  favour  if  she  would  eithei 
put  Antony  to  death,  or  banish  him  from  her  do- 
minions. We  are  not  told  whether  Cleopatra  spurned 
this  messenger  from  her  presence,  nor  what  answer 
she  returned  to  Octavius  :  it  is  merely  said  that 
Thyrsus  behaved  with  an  insolence  which  provoked 
Antc*ny,  and  by  his  order  the  man  was  scourged, 
and  dismissed  with  disgrace  and  contempt. 

Tliere  is  not,  however,  the  slightest  reason  to 
suspect  that  Cleopatra  listened  to  the  base  sugges- 
tions of  Octavius,  or  entertained  for  a  moment  the 
idea  of  betraying  Antony';  on  the  contrary,  she 
treated  him  in  his  misfortunes  with  increased  ten- 
derness and  respect.  It  is  related,  that  at  this  time 
she  kept  her  own  birthday  as  a  day  of  mourning, 
"  with  double  pomp  of  sadness,"  while  the  birthday 
of  Antony,  which  occurred  soon  after,  was  cele- 
brated with  such  magnificence,  "  that  many  of  the 
guests  who  came  poor  returned  wealtlw." 

The  winter  passed  away  in  this  manner;  in  the 
-spring  Octavius  again  took  the  field  and  marched 
upon  Alexandria,  subduing  all  the  cities  and  towns 
which  lay  in  his  route 

Cleopatra  had  erected  near  the  Temple  of  Isis  a 
magnificent  building,  which  in  history  is  called  her 
monument,  and  which  was  probably  designed  as  a 
sepulchre  for  her  family;  but,  like  many  of  the  ancient 
tombs,  it  was  constructed  on  the  scale  and  with  the 
solidity  of  a  fortress.  Thither  she  conveyed  all 
her  treasures,  her  gold  and  silver,  her  jewels,  her 
pearls,  her  ebony,  ivory,  and  cinnamon     It  is  cm  ious 

Vol.  1.— E 


50  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

to  find  cinnamon  enumerated  among  the  most  valua- 
ble of  her  possessions ;  but  in  ancient  times,  when 
the  countries  which  produced  it  were  yet  unknown, 
this  spice  was  considered  almost  equivalent  to  gold  : 
with  these  she  mingled  a  quantity  of  flax  and  a 
number  of  torches.  Octavius,  under  the  greatest 
apprehension  lest  in  a  fit  of  despair  or  wilfulness 
she  should  destroy  these  vast  treasures,  which  ha 
intended  to  appropriate  to  himself,  sent  to  her  mes- 
sage after  message,  assuring  her  of  the  gentlest 
treatment,  all  which  the  queen  received  and  an- 
swered with  a  complacency  more  aff'ected  than 
real;  her  subsequent  behaviour  showed  that  she 
had  never  trusted  Octavius,  and  his  conduct  and 
character  equally  proved  that  she  had  no  reason  to 
do  so. 

Meantime  the  adverse  army  appeared  before  the 
walls  of  Alexandria,  and  Antony,  like  a  lion  in  the 
toils,  seemed  resolved  to  sell  his  life  as  dearly  as  he 
could ;  he  made  a  desperate  sally,  in  which  he  had 
the  advantage,  and  drove  back  the  enemy  to  their 
intrenchments.  Cleopatra  met  him  on  his  return  to 
the  palace  ;  she  threw  herself  into  his  arms,  covered 
as  he  was  v/ith  dust  and  blood,  and  when  he  presented 
to  her  a  certain  soldier  who  had  fought  with  distin- 
guished bravery  by  his  side,  the  queen  called  for  a 
helmet  and  target  of  pure  gold  from  the  royal  treas- 
ures, and  bestowed  them  on  the  warrior,  adding 
"  words  of  such  sweet  breath  composed  as  made 
the  gifts  more  rich."  Loaded  with  these  treasures, 
the  soldier  deserted  the  same  night,  and  went  over 
to  the  enemy;  an  instance  of  ingratitude  which 
some  of  the  friends  of  Antony  regarded  with  super- 
stitious horror,  as  ominous  of  his  approaching  fall. 
Another  engagement  took  place  a  few  days  after- 
ward with  a  far  different  result.  All  that  remained 
of  Antony's  fleet  and  army  surrendered  to  Octavius 
almost  before  a  blow  was  struck ;  and  Antony  re- 
urned  to  the  city,  exclaiming  in  a  fury  that  he  had 


CLE0P4TRA.  f)  1 

been  betrayed  by  Cleopatra,  and  execrating  her  as 
the  cause  of  his  misfortunes. 

The  unhappy  queen,  terrified  by  this  explosion  of 
passion,  fled  to  her  monument,  accompanied  by  her 
two  favourite  women,  Charmian  and  Iras,  and  having 
secured  it  strongly  within,  sent  a  slave  to  tell  Antony 
that  she  was  dead ;  but  immediately  afterward,  re- 
penting of  this  message,  and  fearful  of  the  effect  it 
might  produce  on  him,  she  despatched  her  secretary 
Diomed  to  inform  him  that  she  still  lived,  and  de- 
sired to  see  him  once  more.  This  assurance  ar- 
rived too  late.  Diomed  found  the  worst  anticipa- 
tions of  his  royal  mistress  fatally  fulfilled  :  Antony 
lay  stretched  on  the  ground,  and  weltering  in  his 
blood.  He  had  given  himself  a  mortal  wound,  but 
he  was  not  yet  dead  ;  and  in  a  faint  voice  he  desired 
to  be  carried  to  Cleopatra.  With  her  characteristic 
timidity  and  selfishness,  she  could  refuse,  even  at 
such  a  moment,  to  open  the  gates,  from  the  appre- 
hension of  treason,  and  he  was  drawn  up  by  cords 
into  the  monument ;  the  queen  herself  assisted  her 
women,  distorting  every  feature  by  the  violence  of 
her  efforts ;  while  Antony,  already  in  the  agonies 
of  death,  extended  his  arms  towards  her  from  below. 
When  they  had  succeeded  in  lifting  him  into  the  in- 
terior of  the  monument,  he  was  laid  on  a  couch,  and 
Cleopatra,  hanging  over  him,  beat  her  bosom,  rent 
her  garments,  called  on  him  by  a  thousand  tender 
names,  and  gave  way  to  ail  the  violence  of  feminine 
grief.  Antony  endeavoured  to  sooth  her,  and  w^hile 
she  wiped  from  his  brow  the  blood,  and  the  damps 
of  approaching  death,  he  called  for  wine,  and  drank 
to  her.  Soon  afterward  he  expired  in  her  arms,  con- 
gratulating himself  that,  "being  a  Roman,  he 'had 
been  by  a  Roman  overcome." 

Antony  w^as  scarcely  dead,  when  Proculeius  ar- 
rived from  Octavius,  with  orders  to  take  Cleopatra 
alive,  but  she  refused  to  yield,  or  to  admit  the  mes- 
senger into  her  presence,  and  would  only  confer 


52  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

with  him  fro\n  the  window.  Procuieius  assured  her 
of  the  favour  of  Octavius,  and  sh^  rephed  by  again 
demanding  Egypt  for  her  childr-en;  she  asked  no- 
thing for  herself  but  permission  to  bury  Antony. 

Octavius,  struck  by  this  unexpected  reserve,  now 
began  to  suspect  her  design,  and  as  her  death  would 
have  disconcerted  all  his  hopes  of  exhibiting  her  in 
triumph  at  Rome,  to  take  her  alive  became  an  object 
of  almost  feverish  anxiety.  He  succeeded  by  the 
following  stratagem  :  he  sent  Gallus  to  confer  with 
her  at  the  gate  of  the  monument ;  meanwhile  Pro- 
culeius  placed  a  ladder  at  the  v/indow,  and  while  the 
queen  was  in  deep  conversation  with  Gallus,  he 
entered  from  behind.  Thus  taken  by  surpri-se,  she 
turned,  and  instantly  drew  her  dagger,  with  intent 
to  plunge  it  in  her  bosom;  but  Proculeius  snatched  it 
from  her,  and  while  she  struggled  in  his  arms,  en- 
deavoured to  sooth  her  by  the  most  persuasive  ar- 
guments. He  carefully  examined  her  dress,  lest 
she  should  have  poison  or  weapons  concealed  about 
her,  and  then  hurried  with  the  news  of  his  success 
to  Octavius,  who  received  it  with  exultation. 

The  means  of  self-destruction  being  carefully 
withheld,  and  guards  posted  day  and  night  round  the 
monument,  Cleopatra  apparently  resigned  herself  to 
a.  fate  which  it  was  in  vain  to  resist.  Having  ob- 
tained by  her  prayers  the  body  of  Antony,  she  per- 
formed the  funeral  rites  herself  with  as  much  pomp 
and  magnificence  as  she  could  have  displayed  in  the 
days  of  her  power.  Soon  after  she  was  seized  with 
a  violent  indisposition,  and  not  only  refused  to  take 
the  remedies  prescribed,  but  with  a  sullen  resolution 
obstinately  rejected  food.  Octavius  became  alarmed, 
and  h«  had  recourse  to  a  cruel  expedient  to  force  her 
to  attend  to  her  health :  all  the  children  of  Cleo- 
patra were  iji  his  power,  and  he  threatened  to  treat 
them  with  the  utmost  severity  unless  she  submitted 
to  the  treatment  of  her  physicians.  Maternal  ten- 
derness was  one  of  the  few  virtues  of  this  woman, 


CLEOPATRA.  53 

and  the  imfeeling  menace  of  Octavius  had  its  full 
effect :  she  consented  to  take  medicine  and  food,  and 
recovered. 

Octavius  soon  after  paid  her  a  visit  in  her  monu- 
ment, and  she  received  her  conqueror  with  all  that 
politeness,  that  artificial  grace,  for  which  she  was  so 
remarkable.     Her  appearance  was  deplorable,  for 
her  eyes  were  swelled  with  incessant  weeping-,  and 
her  bosom  disfigured  by  the  blows  which  she  had 
inflicted  on  herself,  according  to  the  Egyptian  cus- 
tom, when  she   had   performed   the  obsequies   of 
Antony.     Still  she  preserved  her  presence  of  mind, 
and  her  object  was  evidently  to  blind  and  disarm 
Octavius  by  her  apparent  submission,   rather   than 
impose  on   him  by  assuming  any  airs  of  dignity. 
She  wept  feigned  tears,  and  threw  herself  on  the 
protection  of  Octavius,  as  though  she  had  not  re- 
solved to  die.      She   gave  up  an  inventory  of  her 
treasures  ;  and  when  her  treasurer  Seleucus  accused 
her  of  keeping  back  some  articles  of  value,  she  gave 
a  strong  proof  of  the  natural  violence  and  wilfulness 
of  her  temper ;  she  started  up  with  sudden  passion, 
caught  him.  by  the  hair,  and  struck  him  several  blows 
on  the  face.     She  assured  Octavius  that  the  jewels 
she  had  withheld  were  not  for  herself,  but  intended 
as   presents   to  Octavia  and  Livia   (the  sister   and 
wife  of  Octavius),  by  whose  good  offices  she  hoped 
to  win  his  favour.     Octavius  in  return  spared  neither 
protestations  norcomplim.ents ;  and  after  a  conference 
of  some  length,  the  conqueror  departed  with  the  per 
suasion  that  her  spirit  was  broken,  and  that  she  was 
completely  subdued    to    his    wishes — but   he    was 
totally  mistaken.     Cleopatra,  with  as  much  subtlety, 
had  far  more  penetration  than  the  Roman ;  she  had 
seen  through   his  mean  designs  and   his  deep  dis 
guises,  and  while  he  was  exulting  in  the  hope  of 
having  deceived  her,  she  triumphed  in  the  certainty 
of  having  cheated  him.     Her  resolve  was  fixed, — to 
die,  rather  than  be  led  in  triumph  through  the  streets 


54  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

of  Rome,  a  spectacle  for  the  ferocious  multitude; 
but  timid  by  nature  she  dreaded  what  slie  most 
wished,  and  feared  the  means  of  death  more  than 
death  itself.  For  several  months,  and  even  long 
before  the  death  of  Antony,  she  had  occupied  her- 
self in  experiments  on  the  nature  and  operation  of 
different  poisons,  and  she  found  that  the  bite  of  the 
asp,  a  small  venomous  serpent  was  the  least  painful 
and  the  most  rapid  in  its  effects.  She  had  prevailed 
on  a  young  Roman  named  Dolabella,  to  give  her 
timely  notice  of  the  intentions  of  Octavius  with 
respect  to  her  future  destination ;  and  he  sent  her 
word  privately,  that  in  three  days  she  would  be  des- 
patched into  Italy,  with  her  children,  to  grace  the 
triumph  of  the  conqueror. 

On  receiving  this  intelligence,  Cleopatra  sent  a 
message  to  Octavius,  requesting  that  she  might  be 
permitted  to  visit  the  tomb  of  Antony,  and  offer 
such  oblations  to  the  dead  as  vv^ere  the  custom  of 
her  nation.  This  being  granted  her,  she  was  carried 
(still  surrounded  by  a  numerous  guard)  to  the  monu- 
ment of  her  lover,  and  there,  falling  prostrate  before 
it,  and  shedding  floods  of  tears,  she  burst  into  the 
following  lamentation : — "  It  is  not  long,  my  An- 
tony, since  with  these  hands  I  buried  thee.  Alas  ! 
they  were  tlien  free ;  but  thy  Cleopatra  is  now  a 
prisoner,  attended  by  a  guard,  lest,  in  the  transports 
of  her  grief,  she  should  disfigure  this  captive  body, 
which  is  reserved  to  adorn  the  triumph  over  thee. 
These  are  the  last  offerings,  the  last  honours  she 
can  pay  thee  ;  for  she  is  now  to  be  conveyed  to  a 
distant  country.  Nothing  could  part  us  while  we 
lived,  but  in  death  we  are  to  be  divided.  Thou, 
though  a  Roman,  hest  buried  in  Egypt ;  and  I,  an 
Egv'ptian,  must  be  interred  in  Italy, — the  only  favour 
I  shall  receive  from  thy  country.  Yet,  if  the  gods 
of  Rome  have  power  or  mercy  left  (for  surely  those 
of  Egypt  have  forsaken  us),  let  them  not  suffer  me 
to  be  led  m  living  triumph  to  thy  disgrace  !     No  '— 


CLEOPATRA.  55 

hide  me,  hide  me  with  thee  in  the  grave ;  for  hfe, 
since  thou  hast  left  it,  has  been  misery  to  me." 
Having  uttered  tliese  words,  she  again  embraced  the 
tomb,  and,  assisted  by  her  women,  she  hung  it  with 
wreaths  of  flow^.s,  and  poured  over  it  the  funeral 
libations.     Thes  ^  ceremonies  duly  performed,  she 
returned  with  an  air  of  composure  to  her  monument, 
ordered  her  women  Charmian  and  Iras  to  prepare  a 
bath,  to  array  her  in  her  royal  robes,  and  place  the 
diadem  of  Egypt  on  her  head.     She  then  sat  down 
and  wrote  a  letter  to  Octavius,  and  having  despatched 
this  epistle  by  a  confidential  servant,  she  commanded 
a  sumptuous  banquet  to  be  prepared,  of  which  she 
partook  cheerfully.     Meantime  her  letter  had  been 
delivered  to  Octavius,  and  when  he  opened  it,  the 
plaintive  and  despairing  style  in  which  it  was  ex- 
pressed at  once  betrayed  her  fatal  intentions.     He 
immediately  despatched  Proculeius  and  others  v/ith 
orders  to  save  her  if  possible  :  but  though  they  made 
the  utmost  speed,  they  arrived  too  late.     On  break 
ing  open  the  doors  of  the  monument,  a  spectacle  at 
once  terrible  and  affecting   presented  itself;  Cleo- 
patra, magnificently  arraye'd,  lay  dead  on  her  couch  ; 
Iras,  one  of  her  women,  was  extended  at  her  feet ; 
the  other,  still  alive,  was  ai  ranging  the  diadem  on 
the  head  of  her  mistress.      Proculeius  exclaimed, 
"  Was  this  well  done,  Charmian  ?"  to  which   she 
replied,  "  Yes,  Roman !  it  was  well  done  ;  for  such 
a  death  became  so  great  a  queen :"  and  on  uttering 
these  words,  she  fell  and  expired  on  the  body  of  her 
mistress. 

Thus  perished  this  celebrated  woman,  whose 
character  exhibits  such  an  extraordinary  mixture 
of  grandeur  and  littleness,  and  whose  life  and  fate 
present  something  so  wildly  magnificent  to  the 
fancy,  that  we  dare  not  try  her  by  the  usual  rules  of 
conduct,  nor  use  her  name  to  point  a  commonplace 
moral,  but  must  needs  leave  her  as  we  find  her.  a 
dazzling  piece  of  witchcraft,  with  which  sober  rea- 


56  FEMALE    SOVEHEIOXS. 

soning  has  nothing  to  do.  She  died  in  her  39th 
year,  having  reigned  twenty-two  years  from  the 
death  of  her  brother  Ptolemy.  ShQ  was  twenty- 
ttiree  years  younger  than  Antony,  to  vvhom  her  at- 
tachment had  lasted  fourteen  years ;  and  though  poli- 
cy and  ambition  might  have  mingled  with  her  love  for 
him,  there  is  no  reason  to  suppose  her  guilty  of 
treachery  or  infidelity  to  him  during  this  period. 

Although  Octavius  was  beyond  measure  incensed 
and  disappointed  by  her  death,  he  could  not  refuse 
to  pay  her  funeral  honours ;  but,  with  characteristic 
meanness,  he  commanded  all  the  statues  which  ex- 
isted of  her  to  be  demohshed — a  usual  method 
among  the  Romans  of  expressing  hatred  and  ven- 
geance. A  man  named  Archidius,  whom  Cleopatra 
had  treated  with  kindness,  offered  a  thousand  talents 
to  redeem  them  from  destruction ;  and  Octavius,  in 
whom  the  spirit  of  avarice  was  even  stronger  than 
the  spirit  of  vengence,  suffered  them  at  this  price  to 
stand. 

The  children  of  Cleopatra  were  carried  to  Rome. 
CtBsarion,  her  son  by  Caesar,  was  afterward  put  to 
death  by  Octavius.  Her  three  children  by  Anthony 
were  Alexander,  Cleopatra,  and  Ptolemy :  they  were 
still  in  their  childhood  when  they  adorned  the  tri- 
umph of  Octavius,  and  walked  in  procession  as  cap- 
tives, while  the  statue  of  their  mother,  exhibiting 
her  as  she  appeared  in  death,  with  a  golden  asp  upon 
her  arm,  was  paraded  before  them.  The  generous 
Octavia  afterward  took  them  under  her  care,  and 
brought  them  up  in  her  own  house,  making  no  dis- 
tinction between  them  and  her  own  children.  She 
afterwards  married  Cleopatra  to  Juba,  king  of  Mau- 
ritania, and  the  two  brothers  settled  with  their  sis- 
ter in  that  country.  The  younger  Cleopatra  inherited 
much  of  her  mother's  grace  and  accomplishments 
Some  medals  remain  with  the  head  of  Juba  on  one 
side  with  a  Latin  inscription,  and  the  head  of  Cleo- 
patra on  the  reverse,  bearing  a  Greek  inscription ;  a 


ZENOBIA.  57 

proof,  that  though  transplanted  into  a  foreign  land 
she  still  remembered  her  native  country,  and  loved 
and  continued  her  native  language  and  literature. 


ZENOBIA. 

QUEEN    OF    PALMYRA. 


Of  the  government  and  manners  of  the  Arabians 
before  the  time  of  Mahomet  we  have  few  and  im- 
perfect accounts  ;  but  from  the  remotest  ages,  they 
led  the  same  unsettled  and  predatory  life  which  they 
do  at  this  day,  dispersed  in  hordes,  and  dw^elling 
under  tents.  It  was  not  to  those  wild  and  wander- 
ing tribes  that  the  superb  Palmyra  owed  its  rise 
and  grandeur,  though  situated  in  the  midst  of  their 
deserts,  where  it  is  now  beheld  in  its  melancholy 
beauty  and  ruined  splendour,  like  an  enchanted 
island  in  the  midst  of  an  ocean  of  sands.  The  mer 
chants  who  trafficked  between  India  and  Europe,  by 
the  only  route  then  known,  first  colonized  this  sin- 
gular spot,  which  afforded  them  a  convenient  rest- 
ing-place, and  even  in  the  days  of  Solomon  it  was 
the  emporium  for  the  gems  and  gold,  the  ivory, 
gums,  spices,  and  silks  of  the  far  Eastern  countries, 
which  thus  found  their  way  to  the  remotest  parts 
of  Europe.  The  Palmyrenes  were,  therefore,  a 
mixed  race, — their  origin,  and  many  of  their  cus- 
toms, were  Egyptian  ;  their  love  of  luxury  and  their 
manners  were  derived  from  Persia ;  their  language, 
literature,  and  architecture  were  Greek. 

Thus,  like  Venice  and  Genoa,  in  more  modern 
times.  Palmyra  owed  its  splendour  to  the  opulence 
and  public  spirit  of  its  merchants ;  but  its  chief  fame 
and  historical  interest  it  owes  to  the  genius  and  he- 
roism of  a  woman. 


68  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

Septiniia  Zenobia,  for  such  is  her  classical  appel- 
lation, was  the  daughter  of  an  Arab  chief,  Amrou, 
tlie  son  of  Dharb,  the  son  of  Hassan.  Of  her  first 
husband  we  have  no  account ;  she  was  left  a  widow 
at  a  very  early  age,  and  married,  secondly,  Odena- 
thus,  chief  of  several  tribes  of  the  Desert,  near 
Palmyra,  and  a  prince  of  extraordinary  valour,  and 
boundless  ambition.  Odenathus  was  the  ally  of 
the  Romans  in  their  wars  against  Sapor  (or,  more 
properly.  Shah  Poor),  king  of  Persia:  he  gained 
several  splendid  victories  over  that  powerful  mon- 
arch, and  twice  pursued  his  armies  even  to  the  gates 
of  Ctesiphon  (or  Ispahan),  his  capital.  Odenathus 
was  as  fond  of  the  chase  as  of  war,  and  in  all  his 
military  and  hunting  expeditions  he  was  accompa- 
nied by  his  wife  Zenobia,  a  circumstance  which  the 
Roman  historians  record  with  astonishment  and  ad- 
miration, as  contrary  to  their  manners,  but  which 
was  the  general  custom  of  the  Arab  women  of  that 
time.  Zenobia  not  only  excelled  her  countrywomen 
in  the  qualities  for  which  they  were  all  remarkable; 
— in  courage,  prudence,  and  fortitude,  in  patience  of 
fatigue,  and  activity  of  mind  and  body, — she  also 
possessed  a  more  enlarged  understanding ;  her  views 
were  more  enlightened,  her  habits  more  intellectual. 
The  successes  of  Odenathus  were  partly  attributed 
to  her,  and  they  were  always  considered  as  reign- 
ing jointly.  She  was  also  eminently  beautiful — with 
the  oriental  eyes  and  complexion,  teeth  like  pearls, 
and  a  voice  of  uncommon  power  and  sweetness. 

Odenathus  obtained  from  the  Romans  the  title  of 
Augustus,  and  General  of  the  East;  he  revenged 
the  fate  of  Valerian,  who  had  been  taken  captive 
and  put  to  death  b}'-  Shah  Poor :  the  eastern  king, 
with  a  luxurious  barbarity  truW  oriental,  is  said  to 
have  used  the  unfortunate  emperor  as  his  footstool 
to  mount  his  horse.  But  in  the  midst  of  his  victo- 
ries and  conquests  Odenathus  became  the  victim 
of  a  domestic  conspiracy,  at  the  head  of  which  was  his- 


ZEN013IA.  69 

nephew  Meeonins.  He  was  assassinated  at  Emessa 
during  a  hunting  expedition,  and  witli  him  his  son 
by  his  first  marriage.  Zenobia  avenged  the  death 
of  her  husband  on  his  murderers,  and  as  her  sons 
were  yet  in  their  mfancy,  she  first  exercised  the 
supreme  power  in  their  name;  but  afterward,  ap- 
parently with  the  consent  of  the  people,  assumed 
the  diadem  with  the  titles  of  Augusta  and  Queen  of 
the  East. 

The  Romans  and  their  effeminate  emperor  Gal- 
lienus  refused  to  acknowledge  Zenobia's  claim  to 
the  sovereignty  of  her  husband's  dominions,  and 
Heraclianus  was  sent  with  a  large  army  to  reduce 
her  to  obedience  ;  but  Zenobia  took  the  field  against 
him,  engaged  and  totally  defeated  him  in  a  pitched 
battle.  ^Not  satisfied  Mith  this  triumph  over  the 
haughty  masters  of  the  world,  she  sent  her  general 
Zabdas"^  to  attack  them  in  Egypt,  which  she  subdued 
and  added  to  her  territories,  together  with  a  part  of 
Armenia  and  Asia  Minor.  Thus  her  dominions  ex- 
tended from  the  Euphrates  to  the  Mediterranean, 
and  over  all  those  vast  and  fertile  countries  formerly 
governed  by  Ptolemy  and  Seleucus.  Jerusalem,  An- 
tioch,  Damascus,  and  other  cities  famed  in  history, 
were  included  in  her  empire,  but  she  fixed  her 
residence  at  Palmyra,  and  in  an  interval  of  peace 
she  turned  her  attention  to  the  further  adornment 
of  her  magnificent  capital.  It  is  related  by  histo- 
rians, that  many  of  those  stupendous  fabrics  of 
which  the  mighty  ruins  are  still  existing,  were  either 
erectfcd  or  at  least  restored  and  embellished  by  this 
extraordinary  woman.  But  that  which  we  have 
most  difficulty  in  reconciling  with  the  manners  of 
her  age  and  country  was  Zenobia's  passion  for 
study,  and  her  taste  for  the  Greek  and  Latin  litera- 
ture. She  is  said  to  have  drawn  up  an  epitome  of 
history  for  her  own  use ;  the  Greek  historians, 
poets,  and.  philosophers  were  familiar  to  her;  she 
invited  Longinus.  one  of  the  most  elegant  writers 


60  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

of  antiquity,  to  her  splendid  court,  and  appointed 
him  her  secretary  and  minister.  For  her  he  com- 
posed his  famous  "  Treatise  on  the  Subhme,"  a  work 
which  is  not  only  admirable  for  its  intrinsic  excel- 
lence, but  most  valuable  as  having  preserved  to  our 
times  many  beautiful  fragments  of  ancient  poets 
whose  works  are  now  lost,  particularly  those  of 
Sappho. 

The  classical  studies  of  Zenobia  seem  to  have  in- 
spired her  with  some  contempt  for  her  Arab  ances- 
try. She  was  fond  of  deriving  her  origin  from  the 
Macedonian  kings  of  Egypt,  and  of  reckoning  Cleo- 
patra among  her  progenitors.  In  imitation  of  tlie 
famous  Egyptian  queen,  she  affected  great  splendour 
in  her  style  of  living  and  in  her  attire ;  and  drank 
her  wine  out  of  cups  of  gold  richly  carved  and 
adorned  with  gems.  It  is,  however,  admitted  that 
An  female  dignity  and  discretion,  as  well  as  in  beauty, 
she  far  surpassed  Cleopatra.  She  administered 
the  government  of  her  empire  with  such  admirable 
prudence  and  policy,  and  in  particular  with  such 
strict  justice  towards  all  classes  of  her  subjects,  that 
she  was  beloved  by  her  own  people,  and  respected 
and  feared  by  the  neighbouring  nations.  She  paid 
great  attention  to  the  education  of  her  three  sons, 
habited  them  in  the  Roman  purple,  and  brought  them 
up  in  the  Roman  fashion.  But  this  predilection  for 
the  Greek  and  Roman  manners  appears  to  have  dis- 
pleased and  alienated  the  Arab  tribes ;  for  it  is  re- 
marked that  after  this  time  their  fleet  cavahy,  inured 
to  the  deserts  and  unequalled  as  horsemen,  no 
longer  formed  the  strength  of  her  army. 

While  Galhenus  and  Claudius  governed  the  Ro- 
man empire,  Zenobia  was  allowed  to  pursue  her 
conquests,  rule  her  dominions,  and  enjoy  her  tri- 
umphs almost  without  opposition ;  but  at  length  the 
fierce  and  active  Aurelian  was  raised  to  the  purple, 
and  he  was  indignant  that  a  woman  should  thus 
brave  with  impunity  the  offended  majesty  of  Rome. 


ZENOBIA.  61 

Having  subdued  all  his  competitois  in  the  West,  he 
turned  his  arms  against  the  Queen  of  the  East 
Zenobia,  undismayed  by  the  terrors  of  the  Romar 
name,  levied  troops,  placed  herself  at  their  head,  and 
gave  the  second  command  to  Zabdas,  a  brave  and 
hitherto  successful  general.  The  first  great  battle 
took  place  near  Antioch ;  Zenobia  was  totally  de- 
feated after  an  obstinate  conflict ;  but,  not  disheart. 
ened  by  this  reverse,  she  retired  upon  Emessa,  rvA- 
lied  her  armies,  and  once  more  defied  the  Roman  em- 
peror. Being  again  defeated  with  great  loss,  and  her 
army  nearly  dispersed,  the  high-spirited  queen  wiLh 
drew  to  Palmyra,  collected  her  friends  around  her 
strengthened  her  fortifications,  and  declared  her  re 
solution  to  defend  her  capital  and  her  freedom  tc 
the  last  moment  of  her  existence. 

Zenobia  was  conscious  of  the  great  difficulties 
which  would  attend  the  siege  of  a  great  city,  well 
stored  with  provisions  and  naturally  defended  ^y 
surrounding  deserts  ;  these  deserts  were  infested  by 
clouds  of  Arabs,  who,  appearmg  and  disappearing 
with  the  swiftness  and  suddenness  of  a  whirlwind, 
continually  harassed  her  enemies.  Thiis  defended 
without,  and  supported  by  a  strong  garrison  v/ithin, 
Zenobia  braved  her  antagonist  from  the  towers  of 
Palmyra  as  boldly  as  she  had  defied  him  in  the  field 
of  battle.  The  expectation  of  succours  from  the 
East  added  to  her  courage,  and  determined  her  to 
persevere  to  the  last.  "  Those,"  said  Aurelian  in  one 
of  his  letters,  "  who  speak  with  contempt  of  the  war 
I  am  waging  against  a  woman  are  ignorant  both  of 
the  character  and  pov/er  of  Zenobia.  It  is  impos- 
sible to  enumerate  her  warhke  preparations  of 
stones,  of  arrows,  and  of  every  species  of  missile 
weapons  and  military  engines." 

Aurehan,  in  fact,  became  doubtful  of  the  event  of 
the  siege,  and  he  offered  the  queen  the  most  honour 
able  terms  of  capitulation  if  she  m  ould  surrender  to 
his  arms  ;  but  Zenobia,  v,  ho  was  aware  that  famine 

I—E 


62  FEMALI-:    SOVKRKIGNS. 

raged  m  the  Roman  camp,  and  daily  looked  for  the 
expected  relief,  rejected  his  proposals  in  a  famous 
Greek  epistle,  written  with  equal  arrog-ance  and  elo- 
quence ;  she  defied  the  utmost  of  his  power;  and, 
alluding  to  the  fate  of  Cleopatra,  expressed  her  reso- 
lution to  die  like  her  rather  than  yield  to  the  Roman 
arms.  Aurelian  was  incensed  by  this  haughty  let- 
ter, even  more  than  by  dangers  and  delays  attending 
the  siege :  he  redoubled  his  efforts,  he  cut  off  the 
succours  she  expected,  he  found  means  to  subsist 
his  troops  even  in  the  midst  of  the  desert ;  every  day 
added  to  the  number  and  strength  of  his  army,  every 
day  increased  the  difficulties  of  Zenobia,  and  the  de- 
spair of  the  Palmyrenes.  The  city  would  not  hold 
out  much  longer,  and  the  queen  resolved  to  fly,  not 
to  ensure  her  own  safety,  but  to  bring  relief  to  her 
capital: — such  at  least  is  the  excuse  made  for  apart 
of  her  conduct  which  certainly  requires  apology. 
Mounted  on  a  fleet  drome'dary,  she  contrived  to  elude 
the  vigilance  of  the  besiegers,  and  took  the  road  to 
the  Euphrates ;  but  she  was  pursued  by  a  party  of 
the  Roman  light  cavalry,  overtaken,  and  brought  as 
a  captive  into  the  presence  of  Aurelian.  He  sternly 
demanded  how  she  had  dared  to  oppose  the  power 
of  Rome  ?  to  which  she  replied,  with  a  mixture  of 
firmness  and  gentleness,  "  Because  I  disdained  to 
acknowledge  as  my  masters  such  men  as  Aureolus 
and  Gallienus.  To  Aurelian  I  submit  as  my  con- 
queror and  my  sovereign."  Aurelian  was  not  dis- 
pleased at  the  artful  compliment  implied  in  this  an- 
swer, but  he  had  not  forgotten  the  insulting  arro- 
gance of  her  former  reply.  While  this  conference 
was  going  forward  in  the  tent  of  the  Roman  empe- 
ror, tlie  troops,  who  were  enraged  by  her  long  and 
obstinate  resistance,  and  all  they  had  suffered  during 
the  siege,  assembled  in  tumultuous  bands  calling  out 
for  vengeance,  and  with  loud  and  fierce  cries  de 
manding  her  instant  death.  The  unhappy  queen 
surrounded  by  the  ferocious  and  insolent  soldierj'' 


ZENOBIA.  63 

fov£[ot  all  her  former  vaunts  and  intrepidity:  her 
feniiuine  terrors  had  perliaps  been  excusable  if  they 
had  not  rendered  her  base  ;  but  in  her  first  panic  she 
threw  herself  on  the  mercy  of  the  emperor,  accused 
her  minister-s  as  the  cause  of  her  determined  resist- 
ance, and  confessed  that  Long-inus  had  written  in 
her  name  that  eloquent  letter  of  defiance  which  had 
so  incensed  the  emperor. 

Longinus,  with  the  rest  of  her  immediate  friends 
in\d  counsellors,  were  instantly  sacrificed  to  the  fury 
of  the  soldiers,  and  the  philosopher  met  death  with 
ail  the  fortitude  which  became  a  wise  and  great  man, 
employing  his  last  moments  in  endeavouring  to  con- 
sole Zenobia  and  reconcile  her  to  her  fate. 

Palmyra  surrendered  to  the  conqueror,  who  seized 
upon  the  treasures  of  the  city,  but  spared  the  build- 
ings and  the  lives  of  the  inhabitants.  Leaving  in  the 
place  a  garrison  of  Romans,  he  returned  to  Europe, 
carrying  with  him  Zenobia  and  her  family,  who  were 
destined  to  grace  his  triumph. 

But  scarcely  had  Aurelian  reached  the  Hellespont, 
when  tidings  were  brought  to  him  that  the  inhabit- 
ants of  Palmyra  had  again  revolted,  and  had  put  the 
Koman  governor  and  garrison  to  the  sword.  With- 
out a  moment's  deliberation  tlie  emperor  turned  back, 
reached  Palmyra  by  rapid  marches,  and  took  a  terri- 
ble vengeance  on  that  miserable  and  devoted  city : 
he  commanded  the  indiscriminate  massacre  of  all 
the  inhabitants,  men,  women,  and  children ; — fired 
its  magnificent  edifices,  and  levelled  its  walls  to  the 
ground.  He  afterward  repented  of  his  fury,  and  de- 
voted a  part  of  the  captured  treasures  to  reinstate 
some  of  the  glories  he  had  destroyed  ;  but  it  was  too 
late ;  he  could  not  reanimate  the  dead,  nor  raise 
from  its  ruins  the  stupendous  Temple  of  the  Sun. 
Palmyra  became  desolate ;  its  very  existence  was 
forgotten,  until  about  a  century  ago,  when  some 
English  travellers  discovered  it  by  accident.  Thus 
the  blind  fury  of  one  man  extinguished  life,  happi- 


64  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

ness,  industry,  art,  and  intelligence  through  a  vast 
extent  of  country,  and  severed  a  link  which  had  long 
connected  the  eastern  and  western  continents  of  the 
old  world. 

When  Aurelian  returned  to  Rome  after  the  ter- 
mination of  this  war,  he  celebrated  his  triumph  with 
extraordinary  pomp.  A  vast  number  of  elephants, 
and  tigers,  and  strange  beasts  from  the  conquered 
countries;  sixteen  hundred  gladiators,  an  innumer- 
able train  of  captives,  and  a  gorgeous  display  of 
treasures, — gold,  silver,  gems,  plate,  glittering  rai- 
ment, and  oriental  luxuries  and  rarities,  the  rich 
plunder  of  Palmyra,  were  exhibited  to  the  populace. 
But  every  eye  was  fixed  on  the  beautiful  and  majes- 
tic figure  of  the  Syrian  queen,  who  walked  in  the 
procession  before  her  own  sumptuous  chariot,  at- 
tired in  her  diadem  and  royal  robes,  blazing  with 
jewels,  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  ground,  and  her  deli- 
cate form  drooping  under  the  weight  of  her  golden 
fetters,  which  were  so  heavy  that  two  slaves  were 
obliged  to  assist  in  supporting  them  on  either  side ; 
while  the  Roman  populace,  at  that  time  the  most 
brutal  and  degraded  in  the  whole  world,  gaped  and 
stared  upon  her  misery,  and  shouted  in  exultation 
over  her  fall.  Perhaps  Zenobia  may  in  that  moment 
have  thought  upon  Cleopatra,  whose  example  she 
had  once  proposed  to  follovr ;  and,  according  to  the 
pagan  ideas  of  greatness  and  fortitude,  envied  her 
destiny,  and  felt  her  own  ignominy  with  all  the  bit- 
temess  of  a  vain  repentance. 

The  captivity  of  Zenobia  took  place  in  the  year 
273,  and  in  the  fifth  year  of  her  reign.  There  are 
two  accounts  of  her  subsequent  fate,  differing  widely 
from  each  other.  One  author  asserts  that  she  starved 
herself  to  death,  refusing  to  survive  her  own  disgrace 
and  the  ruin  of  her  country ;  but  others  inform  us 
that  the  Emperor  Aurelian  bestowed  on  her  a  su- 

{)erb  villa   at  Tivoli,  where   she   resided  in   great 
lonour;  and  that  she  was  afterward  united  to  a 


JOANNA   OF    SICILY.  66 

Roman  senator,  with  whom  she  hved  many  years, 
and  died  at  h  eood  old  h^re.  Her  daughters  married 
into  Roman  families,  and  it  is  said  that  some  of  her 
descendants  remained  so  late  as  the  fifth  century. 

The  three  sons  of  Zenobia  are  called,  in  the  Latin 
histories,  Timolaus,  Herennicanus,  and  Vaballathus. 
The  youngest  became  king  of  part  of  Armenia;  but 
of  the  two  eldest  we  have  no  account. 


JOANNA  I. 

QUEEN  OF  NAPLES. 


RoBEKT  of  Taranto,  who  ascended  the  throne  of 
Naples  in  1309,  was  one  of  the  most  admirable  and 
enhghtened  monarchs  of  his  age,  and  the  third  of 
the  Angevine  princes  who  had  reigned  over  Naples, 
from  the  time  that  Charles  of  Anjou  usurped  that 
crown  in  1265.  The  name  and  the  memory  of  King 
Robert  have  descended  to  us,  linked  with  the  most 
delightful  associations ;  he  is  distinguished  in  Itahan 
history  by  the  epithets  of  the  wise  and  the  good,  and 
if  some  of  his  political  arrangements  may  render  his 
claims  to  the  former  epithet  a  little  doubtful,  yet  in 
one  respect  it  was  justly  merited.  He  lived  at  the 
period  when  literature  and  civihzation  were  begin- 
ning to  dawn  in  Italy ;  if  that  can  be  called  a  doivn 
which  was  illuminated  by  such  men  as  Dante,  Pe- 
trarch and  Boccaccio,  with  all  of  whom  he  was  con- 
temporary. It  must,  however,  be  allowed  that  the 
light  they  shed  was  at  the  time  only  partial,  and  that 
the  munificent  and  general  protection  which  Robert 
extended  to  letters  and  learned  men  contributed 
greatly  to  cherish  and  diflfuse  that  light.  His  own 
acquirements  were  extraordinary  for  the  thnes  in 
which  he  live  i,  particularly  in  the  sciences,  for  until 


66  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

his  acquaintance  with  Petrarch,  he  seems  to  have 
despised  poetry.  However,  he  became  so  snicere  a 
convert  to  the  charms  of  verse,  that  in  his  old  age 
he  commenced  poet  himself,  and  several  of  his  com- 
positions  in  the  Tuscan  dialect  are  yet  extant.*  It 
was  w^isdom  in  Robert  to  perceive  in  vvhat  his  most 
just  and  durable  fame  w^ould  hereafter  consist.  It 
was  wisdom  too,  in  those  dark  and  turbulent  times, 
to  feel  and  acknowledge  the  blessings  of  peace  and 
to  avert  by  every  possible  means  war  and  its  at- 
tendant horrors  from  his  hereditary  dominions.  The 
name  of"  II  buon  Re  Roberto,"  the  friend  of  Petrarch 
and  the  first  patron  of  Boccaccio,  has  a  far  dearer 
interest  in  our  memory  than  that  of  any  of  the 
iron-girt,  fighting  raonarchs  of  his  age,  if  we  except 
his  illustrious  namesake  and  contemporary  Robert 
Bruce,  whose  celebrity,  though  so  different  in  char- 
acter, is  not  brighter  or  purer  than  that  of  Robert 
of  Naples. 

Robert  had  one  son,  Charles  Duke  of  Calabria, 
kcmarkable  for  his  accomplishments,  his  filial  piety, 
and  his  love  of  justice,  who  unhappily  died  before 
his  father.  This  prince  had  espoused  Maria  de  Va- 
lois,  sister  to  that  Philippe  de  Valois  who  disputed 
the  crown  of  France  w  ith  our  Edward  the  Third ; 
and  by  her,  who  survived  him  only  three  years,  he 
left  two  infant  daughters,  Joanna  and  Maria.  Joanna, 
the  elder  of  these  princesses,  became  afterward  one 
of  the  most  celebrated,  most  accomplished,  and  most 
unfortunate  of  women  and  of  queens.  Her  elegant 
biographer  has  truly  observed,!  that  in  person,  in 
character,  in  conduct,  in  her  destiny  and  tragical 
««>nd,  Joanna  can  only  be  compared  to  Mary  Queen 
4>f  Scots  :  the  parallel,  as  we  shall  see,  is  indeed  sin- 
gularly close,  and  perhaps  one  of  the  most  remark- 
uble  and  interesting  which  is  presented  in  history. 

Queen  Joanna  was  born  at  Naples  about  the  end 

*  They  were  printed  at  Rome  in  1642. 

I  See  the  Historical  Life  ot' Joanna  of  Sicily,  Preface. 


JOANNA    OF    SICILY.  6'<( 

of  February,  1328,  and  was  not  quite  a  year  old  when 
she  lost  lier  lather,  the  Duke  of  Calabria.  King 
Robert,  whose  grief  for  the  death  of  his  excellent 
son  IS  represented  as  overwhelming,  undertook  the 
care  and  education  of  his  infint  granddaughters,  to 
whom  he  transferred  all  the  affection  he  had  felt  for 
their  father;  and  in  1331,  when  Joanna  was  about 
four  years  old,  he  declared  her  the  heiress  of  his 
crownj  and  caused  his  nobles  to  take  the  oaths  of 
allegiance  to  her,  as  Duchess  of  Calabria,  and  in- 
heriting with  the  title  all  the  rights  of  her  father  in 
Naples  and  in  Provence.  To  understand  the  situa- 
tion of  the  royal  family  of  Naples  at  this  period,  it 
is  necessary  to  refer  to  the  preceding  reign.  Charles 
the  Second,  the  father  of  King  Robert,  had  married 
Maria,  heiress  of  Hungary/,  and  having  succeeded  to 
that  kingdom  in  right  of"^his  wife,  on  his  death-bed 
he  divided  his  dominions,  bequeathing  the  throne  of 
Hungary  to  his  eldest  son  Charles  Martel ;  while 
Naples  and  Provence  were  left  to  his  younger  son 
Robert.  The  princes  of  the  elder  branch,  thus  ex- 
cluded from  the  fairest  part  of  the  succession,  never 
acquiesced  in  this  division,  although  it  had  been 
confirmed  by  a  solemn  decree  of  the  pope,  but 
were  continually  advancing  claims  on  the  kingdom 
of  Naples :  hence  the  singular  connexion  between 
the  histories  of  Hungary  and  Naples  during  the 
whole  of  the  fourteenth  century ;  hence  were  two 
countries  so  remote  and  dissimilar  brought  in  con- 
tinual collision ;  hence  sprang  a  series  of  domestic 
divisions,  crimes,  usurpations,  and  murderous  wars, 
which  long  desolated  the  loveliest  provinces  of 
Italy ;  and  hence,  in  the  first  instance,  arose  those 
complicated  misfortunes  and  extraordinary  vicissi- 
tudes which  checkered  the  hfe  of  Joanna  of  Sicily. 

It  was  the  smgular  fate  of  this  queen,  during  the 
whole  of  her  eventful  reign,  to  suffer  by  the  mistakes, 
the  follies,  or  the  crimes  of  her  nearest  connexions, 
and  to  be  injured  by  her  ov/n  virtues ;  for  the  weak- 


68  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

nesses  of  a  man  are  sometimes  the  virtues  of  a  wo- 
man ;  or  at  least,  if  the  indulgence  in  the  gentle  and 
kindly  feelings  proper  to  her  sex,  as  pity,  tender- 
ness, and  confidence,  in  despite  of  calculation  and 
self-interest,  may  become  weak  or  criminal  in  a 
woman  when  trusted  with  sovereign  power,  it  is  the 
best  argument  that  has  yet  been  adduced  in  favour 
of  the  Salique  law.  But  the  consequence  is  not 
surely  necessary  and  inevitable,  though,  from  some 
examples  left  us  in  history,  we  might  almost  deem 
it  so. 

The  first  steps  taken  by  the  wise  grandfather  of 
Joanna,  long  before  she  could  judge  or  act  for  her- 
self, were  the  cause  of  many  of  her  subsequent  mise- 
ries, and  of  the  darkest  imputations  which  rest  on 
her  memory. 

Tn  the  first  place.  King  Robert  appointed  as  her 
governess  and  the  guardian  of  her  person  a  woman 
who  has  obtained  a  tragical  celebrity  in  Italian  his- 
tory by  the  name  of  Philippa  the  Catanese.  She 
tVcLH  the  daughter  of  a  fisherman  of  Catania  in  Sicily, 
and  on  a  sudden  emergency  she  was  employed  by 
Queen  Violante,  the  first  wife  of  Robert,  to  nurse  her 
infant  son,  the  Duke  of  Calabria.  Philippa  was 
gifted  beyond  her  birth  or  her  years.  Beautiful,  in- 
telligent, and  aspiring,  she  recommended  herself  so 
much  to  the  queen  by  her  zeal  and  affection,  that 
she  became  her  principal  attendant,  and  afterward 
filled  the  same  office  to  the  second  wife  of  Robert, 
Queen  Sancha,  who  was  not  less  attached  to  her. 
Her  foster-child,  tlie  Duke  of  Calabria,  who  tenderly 
loved  her,  married  her  to  the  seneschal  of  his  pal- 
ace, and  appointed  her  lady  of  the  bedchamber  to 
nis  wife ;  thus  it  happened  that  she  was  present  at 
the  birth  of  Joanna,  and  was  the  first  to  receive  her 
in  her  arms.  The  elevation  of  this  plebeian  woman 
to  offices  of  trust  and  honour  about  the  persons  of 
four  princesses  successively,  the  extreme  attache 
ment  they  all  manifested  for  her,  and  the  favour  and 


JOANNA    OF    SICILY.  69 

confidence  of  King-  Robert  during  a  period  of  forty 
years,  appeared  so  offensive  and  so  incomprehen- 
sible in  those  times,  that  it  was  ascribed  to  magic. 
In  her  character,  in  her  destiny,  in  her  extraordinary 
exaltation  from  the  meanest  station  to  rank  and 
power,  and  in  her  sudden  and  terrible  fall,  Philippa 
does,  in  fact,  remind  us  of  Leonora  Galigai ;  but  it 
was  not  certainly  in  this  case  the  magic  influence 
of  a  strong  mind  over  a  weak  one ;  and  though  Or- 
loff  calls  her  "  femme  intrigante  et  sans  mceurs,"* 
yet  it  must  be  allowed  that  the  worst  offences 
charged  against  her  appear  exceedingly  problemati- 
cal, and  seem  to  have  originated  in  the  universal 
jealousy  with  which  her  elevation  and  that  of  her 
family  were  beheld  by  the  proud  nobility.  The 
power  which  Philippa  obtained  over  the  affections 
of  Queen  Joanna  was  one  of  the  heaviest  accusa- 
tions against  her  unhappy  mistress,  and  led  to  her 
own  ruin  and  horrible  death ;  yet,  considering  all  the 
circumstances,  nothing  surely  could  be  more  natural 
and  inevitable.  If  the  appointment  of  the  Catanese 
to  be  her  governess  was  impolitic  and  disreputable, 
on  account  of  her  low  origin  and  the  offence  it  gave 
to  many  of  the  high-born  ladies  of  the  court,  yet  the 
confidence  of  King  Robert  and  the  dispositions  and 
qualities  afterward  displayed  by  Joanna  prove  her  to 
have  been  not  wholly  unworthy  of  the  trust  reposed 
in  her. 

The  next  great  error  committed  by  Robert  in  the 
management  of  his  infant  heiress  was,  her  marriage 
with  his  grand-nephew  Andreas,  the  second  son  of 
Carobert,  King  of  Hungary.  By  this  marriage  he 
fondly  hoped  to  extinguish  all  the  feuds  and  jealousies 
which  had  long  existed  between  the  two  kingdoms, 
by  restoring  to  the  elder  branch  of  his  family,  in  the 
person  of  Andreas,  the  possession  of  the  throne  of 
Naples,  without  prejudice  to  the  rights  of  his  grand 

*  M6moires  sur  Naples. 


70  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

daiiffhter.  Neither  does  the  arrang-ement  appear  at 
first  view  so  impoUtic  as  it  eventually  proved;  it 
was  founded  in  a  principle  of  justice,  and  was  rather 
hastily  executed  than  imprudently  devised. 

Joanna  was  only  five  years  old,  and  Andreas  only 
seven,  when  this  ill-fated  union  was  celebrated  at 
Naples  with  all  possible  splendour,  and  in  the  midst 
of  feasts  and  rejoicings.  The  infant  couple  were 
thenceforward  brought  up  together,  with  the  idea 
that  they  were  destined  for  each  other ;  but  as  they 
grew  in  years,  they  displayed  the  most  opposite 
qualities  of  person  and  mind. 

"  For  me,"  said  King  Robert  to  Petrarch,  who  has 
himself  recorded  this  memorable  speech,  "  for  me, 
I  swear  that  letters  are  dearer  to  me  than  my 
crown ;  and  were  I  obliged  to  renounce  the  one  or 
the  other,  I  should  quickly  tear  the  diadem  from  my 
brow."  Filled  with  this  enthusiastic  conviction  of 
the  advantages  of  learning,  the  king  surrounded  his 
granddaughter  with  the  best  preceptors  in  science 
and  literature  which  could  be  procured  throughout 
all  Italy.  Those  chronicles  which  differ  most  on 
the  character  and  conduct  of  Joanna  are  yet  all 
agreed  on  one  point, — all  bear  testimony  to  her  ex 
traordinary  talents  and  her  love  of  literature ;  and 
the  Neapolitan  historians  assert,  that  at  twelve  years 
old  "  she  was  not  only  distinguished  by  her  superioi 
endowments,  but  already  surpassed  in  understanding, 
not  only  every  child  of  her  own  age,  but  many  wo- 
men of  mature  years."  To  these  mental  accom- 
plishments were  added  a  gentle  and  generous  tem- 
per, a  graceful  person,  a  beautiful  and  engaging 
countenance,  and  the  most  captivating  manners. 

Andreas,  on  the  contrary,  had  been  surrounded  by 
his  rude  Hungarian  attendants,  and  grew  up  weak, 
indolent,  and  unpolished,  though  without  any  of 
those  evil  dispositions  and  degrading  and  profligate 
propensities  which  have  been  imputed  to  him.*   His 

*  See  Historical  Life  of  Joanna  of  Si?ily. 


JOANNA    OF    SICILY.  71 

father,  the  Kinff  of  ITung^ary,  had  appointed  as  rns 
preceptor  a  monk  named  Fra  Roberto,  or  Friar  Rob- 
ert, the  declared  enemy  of  the  Catanese,  and  her 
competitor  in  power.  Of  this  monk  historians  have 
left  us  a  far  more  frig-htful  and  disgusting-  portrait 
than  of  his  rival  Philippa.  It  was  his  constant  aim 
to  keep  his  pupil  in  ignorance,  that  he  might  keep 
bim  in  subjection ;  to  inspire  him  with  a  dislike  and 
jealousy  of  the  Neapolitans,  whom  he  was  destmed 
to  govern;  and  keep  up  his  partiality  for  the  Hun- 
garians, to  Avhose  manners,  dress,  and  customs  he 
obliged  him  to  adhere.  The  extreme  indolence  and 
pliability  of  the  prince's  temper  aided  the  designs  of 
this  wretch,  and  enabled  him  to  obtain  an  unbounded 
influence  over  the  mind  of  his  pupil.  The  good 
King  Robert  perceived  too  late  the  fatal  mistake  he 
had  committed ;  he  saw  the  miseries  and  perils  he 
had  prepared  for  his  beautiful  and  accomplished 
heiress  by  this  unequal  marriage ;  and  the  compact 
being  irrevocable,  he  endeavoured  at  least  to  obviate 
some  of  the  threatened  evils  by  excluding  Andreas 
from  any  share  in  the  sovereign  power.  In  a  gene- 
ral assembly  of  his  nobles  he  caused  the  oath  of 
allegiance  to  be  taken  to  Joaima  alone,  as  queen  in 
her  own  right.  But  this  precaution,  so  far  from 
having  the  desired  effect,  added  to  the  dangers  he 
apprehended ;  while  it  gratified  the  Neapolitans,  it 
excited  the  jealousy  and  anger  of  the  Hungarians, 
and  laid  the  foundation  of  many  troubles  and  factions 
in  the  state. 

Meantime,  the  young  Joanna,  who  could  not  yet 
judge  of  the  policy  or  impolicy  of  the  measures 
taken  for  her  safety  and  personal  Avelfare,  grew  up 
to  the  age  of  fifteen,  happy  in  the  studies  and  plea- 
sures befitting  her  years,  happy  in  the  unconscious- 
ness of  the  storms  impending  over  her,  and  every 
day  improving  in  beauty  and  intellect.  She  showed 
at  this  time  no  dislike  to  her  young  husband,  and  no 
repugn?aoe  to  the  solemnization  of  their  marriage 


72  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

contract ;  though  Andreas,  as  he  advanced  in  years, 
disphiyed  the  same  slotliful  and  imbecile  temper  for 
which  he  had  been  remarkable  from  infancy.  They 
bore  the  title  of  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Calabria,  and 
constantly  resided  together  under  the  care  of  King 
Robert  and  Queen  Sancha.  The  whole  of  the  royal 
family  inhabited  the  Castel  Novo  at  Naples,  which, 
with  the  strength  of  a  fortress,  united  the  magnifi- 
cence of  a  palace.  It  contained  at  this  time  the 
finest  library  then  existing  in  Europe,  and  its  walls 
had  been  decorated  by  the  paintings  of  Giotto,  one 
of  the  first  restorers  of  the  art  in  Italy.  Under  the 
same  roof  resided  the  Princess  Maria,  the  younger 
sister  of  Joanna,  and  Maria  of  Sicily,  a  natural  daugh- 
ter of  King  Robert,  remarkable  for  her  beauty,  her 
accomplishments,  and  her  gallantries.  She  was  the 
mistress  of  Boccaccio,  and  his  too  celebrated  Fiam- 
metta,  at  whose  command  he  wrote  the  Decame- 
rone.* 

King  Robert  died  in  1343,  leaving  .Toanna,  at  the 
age  of  fifteen,  sovereign  over  three  of  the  most  beau- 
tiful countries  of  Europe, — Naples,  Provence,  and 
Piedmont.  On  the  refusal  of  Queen  Sancha  to  ac- 
cept the  office  of  sole  regent,  for  which  her  capacity 
and  virtues  well  fitted  her,  but  which  a  mistaken 
idea  of  religious  humility  induced  her  to  decline,  he 
had  appointed  a  council  of  regency  during  the  mi- 
nority of  the  young  queen,  and  had  especially  ex- 

*  Maria  of  Sicily  became  the  wife  of  Robert,  Count  d'Artois.  An  old 
French  writer  is  of  opinion  that  this  princess  loved  Boccaccio  merely 
"  pour  son  beau  dire  et  sa  belle  plume,  i)our  la  rendre  excellente  et  im- 
mortelle par  son  rapport  A  tout  le  monde  de  ses  belles  vertiisi ;  mais  le 
galant  n'en  fit  rien ;  et  la  laissa  trompee,  et  s'en  alia  ecrire  ces  deux 
livres  menteurs,  qui  Font  plus  scandalisie  qu'edifi.'e."  Assuredly,  the 
kind  of  immortality  which  Boccaccio  has  bestowed  on  the  Princess 
Maria  is  not  exactly  that  which  she  anticipated.  The  Fiammetta,  not- 
withstanding the  reality,  force,  and  beauty  of  the  picture  which  her 
lover  has  left  of  her  (considered  as  a  portrait),  will  never  bear  a  com 
parison  wixh  her  contemporary,  Laura, — 

"Basso  desir  non  •':'  ch'  ivi  si  senta 
Ma  d'onor,  di  virtute " 


JOANNA    OF    SICILV.  78 

eluded  Andreas  and  his  ITuiijrnrian  adherents  from 
any  participation  in  the  (government.  But  all  his 
arran^rements  for  the  welfare  of  Joanna  and  for  the 
safety  and  peace  of  the  kinG:"d()m  were  defeated  by 
the  intrig-ues  and  the  wickedness  of  Fra  Roberto, 
who  interfered  with  the  government  in  the  name  of 
his  pupil  Andreas.  The  younsr  king  and  queen  be- 
came little  else  than  state  prisoners  in  the  hands  of 
this  monk  and  his  Hungarian  faction,  who,  by  their 
arrogance,  rapacity,  and  tyranny,  drove  away  and 
disgusted  all  the  friends  of  Joanna :  the  weak  were 
oppressed,  the  great  insulted,  and  the  sovereigns,  the 
court,  and  the  populace  all  trembled  alike  in  the 
presence  of  an  ignorant,  ragged,  dirty  friar.  Petrarch, 
who  about  this  time  visited  Naples  as  envoy  from 
the  pope,  has  left  us  in  one  of  his  eloquent  letters  a 
description  of  Fra  Roberto,  written  in  a  strain  of  vio- 
lent, but  apparently  just,  invective.  "  I\Iay  Heaven," 
he  exclaims,  "  rid  the  soil  of  Italy  of  such  a  pest ! — 
a  horrible  animal,  with  bald  head  and  bare  feet,  short 
in  stature,  swollen  in  person,  with  worn-out  rags 
torn  studiously  to  show  his  naked  skin,  not  only  de- 
spises the  supplications  of  the  citizens,  but  from  the 
vantage-ground  of  his  feigned  sanctity  treats  with 
scorn  the  embassy  of  the  pope."  Joanna  wished  to 
have  attached  Petrarch  to  her  court,  for  she  was 
able  to  appreciate  his  genius  and  his  w^orth,  and 
seems  to  have  inspired  him  in  return  with  the  strong- 
est admiration  for  her  character  and  talents.  On 
every  occasion  he  speaks  of  her  with  esteem  for  her 
virtues  and  pity  for  her  helpless  situation.  But  the 
court  of  Naples  was  at  this  time  no  enviable  resi- 
dence for  a  sentimental  poet  and  a  man  of  letters  in 
love  with  tranquillity  and  retirement :  it  was  a  con- 
tinual scene  of  factious  disturbances  between  the 
Neapolitans  and  the  Hungarians ;  so  that  Petrarch 
compares  the  young  queen  and  her  consort  to  "two 
lambs  in  the  midst  of  wolves."  Joanna,  being  sove- 
reiijn  in  name  only,  and  not  in  authority,  conferred 


74  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS- 

on  Petrarch  the  only  honours  which  it  was  in  her 
power  to  bestow.  She  appointed  him  her  chaplain 
and  almoner,  titles  not  merely  nominal,  since  they 
were  accompanied  by  some  valuable  privileges.  Pe- 
trarch left  Naples  in  1343. 

About  a  year  after  the  accession  of  Joanna,  the 
Duke  of  Durazzo  secretly  carried  off  her  younger 
sister  Maria,  the  promised  bride  of  Louis  of  Hun- 
gar}^,  and  married  her.  For  the  better  understand- 
ing of  what  follows,  it  is  necessary  to  observe  here 
that  the  princes  of  Durazzo,  the  princes  of  Taranto, 
the  reigning  family  in  Hungary,  and  the  reigning 
family  in  Naples  were  all  descended  from  a  common 
ancestor,  Charles  of  Anjou;  hence  they  were  all 
related,  being  cousins  in  the  second  degree. 

The  coronation  of  Joanna  was  fixed  for  the  20tb 
of  September,  1345;  and  while  preparations  were 
going  forward  for  this  grand  ceremony,  the  young 
king  and  queen  retired  from  Naples  in  the  month 
of  August,  and  went  to  take  their  diversions  in  the 
gardens  of  the  Celestine  monastery  at  Aversa.  This 
town,  so  fatally  celebrated  for  the  tragedy  which  en- 
sued, is  situated  about  fifteen  miles  from  Naples. 
The  queen,  who  expected  soon  to  become  a  mother, 
and  whose  health  had  lately  been  very  delicate,  ap- 
peared restored  by  the  change  of  air,  the  tranquil- 
lity, and  the  enchanting  scenery  around  her ;  all  was 
happiness  and  repose,  and  nothing  indicated  the  ter 
rible  catastrophe  at  hand.  On  the  night  of  the  18th 
of  September,  Andreas  was  called  from  the  queen's 
apartment  by  the  information  that  a  courier  had  just 
arrived  from  Naples,  and  waited  to  confer  with  him. 
In  the  gallery  adjoining  he  was  seized  by  some  per- 
sons whose  names  were  never  exactly  known  ;  they 
stopped  his  mouth  with  their  gloves,  strangled  him 
by  means  of  a  cord  or  handkerchief,  and  suspended 
his  body  from  the  balcony,  whence,  the  cord  break- 
ing from  the  weight,  it  fell  into  the  garden.  The 
murderers  were  proceeding  to  bury  it  on  the  spot, 


JOANNA    OF    SICILY.  75 

but,  an  alarm  being  given  by  the  king's  nurbe,  they 
fled  precipitately,  and  made  their  escape.* 

It  is  necessary  to  pause  for  a  moment  in  the  nar- 
rative, and  to  observe  that  the  popular  accounts  of 
tliis  shocking  event,  and  the  accusation  against  Jo- 
anna of  having  contrived  the  murder  of  her  unfor- 
tunate husband,  do  not  appear  founded  in  truth. 

It  is  not  possible  to  produce  here,  and  separately 
weigh  and  examine,  all  the  proofs  and  arguments 
brought  together  by  historians,  who  differ  on  the 
q-uestion  of  her  guilt  or  innocence  ;  but  it  may  be  ob- 
served, that  while  all  that  is  adduced  against  her 
rests  on  vulgar  report,  or  the  invectives  of  her  ene- 
mies, there  are  three  considerations  wiiich  appear 
conclusive  in  her  favour.  In  the  first  place,  Joanna 
had  no  particular  reason  to  wish  for  the  death  of  her 
husband,  the  father  of  her  infant ;  for  though  it  has 
been  asserted  by  many  authors  that  Joanna  hated 
her  husband,  and  took  no  pains  to  conceal  her  aver- 
sion, yet  this  is  as  positively  denied  by  others ;  and 
if  her  hatred  had  been  so  public,  the  queen  would 
hardly  have  had  the  assurance  to  make  use  of  the 
expressions,  "  My  good  husband,  with  whom  I  have 
always  associated  without  strife,"  which  occur  in 
her  letter  to  the  King  of  Hungary.  And  if  she  had 
wished  for  his  death — as  she  is  acknowledged  by  all 
to  have  possessed  an  extraordinary  understanding — 
she  would  surely  have  contrived  to  execute  her  pur- 
pose in  a  manner  less  desperate,  less  foolish,  and  less 
perilous  to  herself.  Secondly,  it  is  agreed  by  all, 
that  the  disposition  of  Joanna  was  mild,  tender,  and 
generous ;  that  she  was  never  known  to  commit  an 
unjust  or  cruel  action  either  before  or  after  this  trans- 
action ;  or  give  the  slightest  indication  of  such  vio- 

*  There  is  a  story  often  repeated  that  Joanna  was  employed  in  twist- 
ing a  silken  cord  for  the  purpose  of  strangling  her  husband,  when  ho 
eiuered  her  apartment,  and  asked  her  what  she  was  doing.  To  which 
she  replied,  with  a  smile,  '•  Twisting  a  rope  to  hang  you  with."  It  is 
hardly  necessary  to  add,  that  this  is  a  mere  vulgar  t^a^Iitioa,  without  the 
least  foundation  in  truth. 


76  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

lence  of  temper,  or  such  early  depravity  of  heart  as 
alone  could  have  impelled  her  to  comiive  at  the  as- 
sassination of  her  husband,  the  father  of  her  up.< 
oorn  child,  and  this  within  her  hearing,  if  not  before 
her  eyes!  It  is  too  horrible  for  belief.  The  woman 
who,  under  such  circumstances,  could  have  commit- 
ted such  an  atrocious  crime  at  the  age  of  seventeen, 
could  never  have  either  begun  or  ended  there  ;  yet 
all  historians,  even  her  enemies  and  accusers,  affirm, 
that  from  the  age  of  seventeen  Joanna  was  a  model 
of  virtue,  gentleness,  and  feminine  discretion. 

Thirdly,  not  only  all  the  best  historians  of  Provence 
and  Naples, — "  not  only  the  most  worthy,  but  what 
is  of  as  much  consequence  in  such  matters,  the  most 
enlightened  of  her  contemporaries — men  independent 
of  her  favour  and  protection,  remarkable  for  their 
freedom  of  censure,  personally  acquainted  with  her 
character,  with  that  of  her  court  and  family,  and  with 
the  political  circumstances  of  her  kingdom, — all 
these  acquit  her."* 

It  is  related  that  when  Joanna  was  informed  of 
the  fate  of  her  husband,  she  remained  for  some  time 
speechless,  and  without  shedding  a  tear.  One  his- 
torian imputes  this  suspension  of  her  faculties  to 
guilt  and  confusion ;  another  terms  it  the  eftect  of 
terror  and  horror,  which  is  at  least  as  probable. 
The  queen  says  of  herself, — "  I  have  suffered  so 
much  anguish  for  the  death  of  my  beloved  husband 
that,  stunned  by  grief,  I  had  wellnigh  died  of  the 
same  wounds."! 

When  the  news  of  the  murder  of  Andreas  was 
spread  through  Aversa  and  Naples,  a  most  extraor 
dinary  tumult  ensued.  The  Hungarians,  struck  with 
consternation,  fled  in  all  directions.  Joanna  the  next 
morning  returned  to  Naples  with  a  few  attendants, 
and  shut  herself  up  in  the  Castel  Novo,  where,  withir^ 

*See  the  Historical  Life  of  Joanna  of  Sicily;  and  Count  OrloflPt 
'  M6moires  sur  Naples." 
t  In  her  letter  to  the  King  of  Hungary. 


JOANNA    OF    SICILY.  77 

two  months  afterward,  she  gave  birth  to  a  son. 
Soon  after  her  recovery  from  her  confinement,  she 
took  the  administration  of  affairs  into  her  owr 
hands  ;  she  formed  a  council  composed  of  the  friends 
of  her  grandfat?her  Robert,  and  signed  a  commission 
to  Hugh  del  Balzo  to  seek  out  the  murderers  of  her 
husband,  and  execute  justice  on  them  without  re- 
spect of  persons.  "  The  assassination  of  Andreas," 
says  the  historian  of  Joanna,  "  appears  to  have  been 
a  sudden  burst  of  desperate  ferocity  in  a  set  of  mis- 
creants who  feared  the  loss  of  their  fortunes  and 
lives  under  the  sway  of  the  implacable  and  equally 
unprincipled  friar ;"  but  who  those  miscreants  were 
is  still  uncertain.  Some  of  the  chamberlains  of 
Andreas  w^ere  seized  and  put  to  the  torture,  accord- 
ing to  the  barbarous  and  stupid  practice  of  those 
times.  They  accused,  among  others,  Philippa  the 
Catanese,  who,  since  the  death  of  Robert,  had  been 
created  Countess  of  Montoni ;  her  son,  the  Count 
Evoli;  her  granddaughter  Sancha,  a  young  and  beau 
tiful  w^oman  ;  and  Count  Terhzi,  the  husband  of  the 
latter. 

When  Hugh  del  Balzo,  invested  with  the  full 
powers  Avhich  Joanna  herself  had  bestowed  upon 
him,  presented  himself  before  the  gates  of  the  Castel 
Novo,  the  young  queen  without  hesitation  com- 
manded the  gates  to  be  thrown  open  to  him ;  hor 
astonishment  and  her  anguish  may  be  imagined, 
when  her  friends  and  favourites  were  summoned  be- 
fore him,  accused, — upon  the  evidence  of  men  who 
had  been  tortured  almost  to  death  before  they  had 
uttered  a  word  to  criminate  themselves  or  others, — 
as  accessaries  to  the  murder  of  Andreas,  and  dragged 
from  her  protection  to  expire  in  the  most  shock- 
ing and  lingering  torments  that  ingenious  cruelty 
could  devise. 

Thenceforward  it  is  observed  that  a  change  en- 
sued in  the  character  of  Joanna ;  and  in  the  death 
of  her  husband,  and  the  horrible  catastrophe  of  her 

L—F 


78  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

foster-mother  Philippa,  and  lier  companion  and  play- 
fellow Sancha,  she  appears  to  have  received  a  shock 
from  which  she  never  afterward  recovered.  Previous 
to  her  eighteenth  year  her  temper  had  been  remark- 
ably frank,  cheerful,  and  confiding ;  but  from  that 
time  a  visible  alteration  took  place.  Though  she 
displayed  equal  dignity  and  mildness  in  her  deport- 
ment ;  though  in  the  interior  of  her  palace  "  she  was 
so  gracious,  gentle,  compassionate,  and  kind,  that 
she  seemed  rather  the  companion  than  the  queen 
of  those  around  her"  (these  are  the  words  of  Boc- 
caccio) ;  yet  she  was  always  more  grave  than  gay 
and  was  never  known  to  have  a  familiar  friend,  fa- 
vourite, or  confidant  of  either  sex,  or  to  put  entire 
trust  in  any  of  those  about  her  person.  Treachery 
had  come  so  near  her, — anguish  and  fear  had  struck 
her  so  deeply,  that  confidence  and  happiness  seemed 
to  have  fled  together : — the  spring  of  her  life  was 
changed  to  winter ;  and  her  dawn,  which  ought  to 
have  been  followed  by  sunshine  and  the  cheerful  day, 
settled  into  a  cold,  calm  twilight,  to  be  finally  swal- 
lowed up  in  storms  and  midnight  darkness. 

More  than  two  years  after  the  death  of  Andreas, 
Joanna  married,  by  the  advice  and  recommendation 
of  her  ministers,  her  second  cousin,  Louis  of  Ta- 
ranto,  a  brave,  accomplished,  and  very  handsome 
prince,  who,  from  his  singular  beauty,  acquired  the 
name  of  Phoebus,  or  the  Day.*  Soon  afterward 
Louis,  King  of  Hungary,  the  elder  brother  of  An- 
dreas, raised  a  party  against  her,  invaded  her  do- 
minions, and,  under  pretence  of  revenging  the  mur- 
der of  his  brother,  proclaimed  his  intention  of  seiz- 
ing the  crown  for  himself.  But  before  he  entered 
the  kingdom  of  Naples  as  an  enemy,  he  endeavoured 

*  Count  Orloff  asserts  that  Joanna,  "amante  trop  empress6e,  ou 
femme  irr6fl6chie,"  was  united  to  the  Prince  of  Taranto  in  the  first  year 
of  her  widowhood,  which,  on  a  comparison  of  dates,  appears  evidently 
false.  The  death  of  Andreas  took  place  in  13-15 ;  and  her  union  witb  . 
Louis  was  solemnized  in  August,  1347.  That  she  had  long  been  at- 
tached to  her  handsome  cousin  may  possibly  be  true. 


JOANNA    OF    SICILY.  79 

• 

to  give  some  colour  ot  justice  to  his  cause,  by  sol- 
emnly accusing]:  Joanna  before  the  tribunal  of  Cola 
Rienzi,  that  illustrious  democrat,  who  was  at  this 
time  at  the  height  of  his  power  at  Rome,  and  con- 
sidered as  the  arbitrator  of  the  minor  states  of  Italy. 
Joanna  did  not  disdain  to  defend  herself  by  her  dep- 
uties, and  Rienzi  heard  the  pleadings  of  both  parties 
in  public  ;  but  he  refused  to  pronounce  judgment  be- 
tween them,  and  left  this  great  cause  undecided. 
While  it  was  pending  Louis  of  Hungary  continued 
to  advance,  and  in  December,  1347,  he  passed  the 
frontiers  of  Naples.     Wherever  he  appeared  a  black 
standard   was  carried   before   him,  on  which  was 
painted  the   murder   of   Andreas;    a   company  of 
mourners,  also  habited  in  black,  surrounded  this  hor- 
rible  banner,  on  which  the  populace   gazed  with 
affright  and  disgust.     In  this  terrific  array  did  Louis 
of  Hungary  advance  wathout   opposition  as  far  as 
Aversa ;  and  that  il^-omened  spot,  which  had  alreadj 
been  the  scene  of  midnight  murder,  was  destined  to 
witness  another  act  of  atrocity  strongly  character- 
istic of  those  dark  and  evil  times.     Among  the  no- 
bles who  joined  Louis,  upon  a  promise  of  safe  con- 
duct, was  the  Duke  of  Durazzo,  who  had  married 
the  younger  sister  of  Joanna.     He  was  a  weak  but 
ambitious  man,  who  seems  to  have  been  possessed 
with  the  idea,  that  if  Joanna  were  once  deposed  or 
removed,  it  would  make  way  for  the   accession  of 
his  wife  and  her  children  to  the  throne ;  he  was  also 
one  of  those  who  were  suspected,  but  without  any 
reason,  of  participating  in  the  murder  of  Andreas. 
When  they  arrived  at  Aversa,  the  Duke  of  Durazzo 
was  desired  by  the  King  of  Hungary  to  show  him 
the  place  where  his   brother  Andreas  was   killed. 
The  duke  replied  by  denying  all  knowledge  of  the 
place  or  of  the  crime ;  but  Louis,  without  listening 
to  him,  led  the  way  to  the  fatal  balcony  in  the  Ce 
lestine  monastery  ;  he  there  accused  him  as  the  mur- 
derer X)f  his  brother,  and  desired  him  to  prepare  for 


80  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

death.  Durazzo  entreated  for  mercy,  but  at  a  sig:r 
from  Louis  he  was  stabbed  to  the  heart  in  his  presi 
ence,  his  body  thrown  over  the  balcony,  and  his 
friends  and  attendants  w^ere  forbidden  on  pain  of 
death  to  inter  it.  After  the  commission  of  this 
treacherous  and  cruel  murder  Louis  hastened  on  to 
Naples.  On  his  approach  some  of  the  nobles  were 
mduced  by  bribes  and  promises  to  join  his  party. 
Some  believed,  or  affected  to  believe,  the  queen 
guilty  of  the  crimes  imputed  to  her ;  others  fled  to 
their  castles,  and  fortified  themselves  separately 
against  the  invader,  or  submitted  to  his  arms.  Jo- 
anna, taken  by  surprise,  and  surrounded  by  treachery 
and  violence,  had  yielded  to  those  of  her  friends  and 
ministers  who  advised  her  to  take  refuge  in  Pro- 
vence, the  beautiful  and  ancient  inheritance  of  her 
family,  till  the  storm  was  past.  She  accordingly 
embarked  with  her  household  in  three  galleys,  and 
sailed  from  Naples  ;  while  the  -^iddy  and  versatile 
populace,  who  \vanted  resolution  and  fidelity  to  de- 
fend her  from  her  enemies,  crowded  along  the  shores, 
weeping  bitterly,  lamenting  her  departure,  and  pray- 
ing for  her  return. 

On  her  arrival  in  her  Provencal  dominions,  Joanna 
landed  at  Nice,  and  proceeded  to  Avignon,  where 
Pope  Clement  the  Sixth  then  held  his  court  in  the 
utmost  splendour.  Li  the  presence  of  that  pontiff, 
and  in  a  solemn  assemblage  of  the  cardinals  and 
principal  clerg}^  she  pleaded  her  own  cause  against 
the  King  of  Hungary,  and  proved  the  falsehood  of 
all  the  imputations  against  her.  Her  address  on  this 
occasion,  whicli  she  composed  in  the  Latin  tongue, 
and  pronounced  herself,  has  been  described  as  "  the 
most  powerful  specimen  of  female  oratory  ever  re- 
corded in  history."  The  Hungarian  ambassadors 
sent  by  the  kmg  her  enemy  to  plead  against  her 
were  so  confounded  that  they  attempted  no  reply  to 
her  defence.  The  pope  and  the  cardinals  unani- 
mously  acquitted   her.  with   every   expression   of 


JOANNA    OF    SICILY.  81 

honour  and  admiration,  and  her  Proven9al  nobility 
crowded  round  her  to  proffer  their  services  for  the 
recovery  of  her  Neapohtan  dominions.  While  re- 
siding in  Provence,  Joanna  wns  joined  by  her  sister 
Maria,  the  widow  of  the  murdered  Durazzo,  who 
with  her  inftmt  children  had  escaped  almost  by  mira- 
cle from  the  ruthless  conqueror.  The  two  sisters, 
who  had  always  been  affectionately  attached  to  each 
other,  met  with  transport,  and  Joanna  adopted  the 
children  of  Maria  as  her  own. 

Naples  in  the  mean  time  had  been  a  scene  of  hor- 
ror.    Louis,  after  staining  that  city  wdth  the  blood 
of  its  chief  inhabitants,  and,  with  his  rude  Hunga- 
rian followers  and  German  mercenaries,  scattering 
terror  and  lamentation  along  its  beautiful  shores, 
was  at  length  driven  away  by  a  terrible  pestilence, 
which  had  prevailed  more  or  less  throughout  the 
whole  of  Italy,  and  extended  its  ravages  to  othei 
parts  of  Europe.     This  was  the  memorable  plague 
of  which  Boccaccio  has  left  us  so  striking  a  descrip 
tion,  and  of  which  Petrarch's  Laura  died  at  Avignon 
about  three  weeks  after  the  arrival  of  Queen  Joanna 
in  that  city.     On  his  departure  from  Naples,  Louis 
left  as  his  lieutenant  Conrad  Wolf,  a  wretch  worthy 
'  of  his  name,  whose  cruelties  and  exactions  com- 
pleted the  desolation  of  that  devoted  country.     The 
tyrannical  and  rapacious  government  of  the  Hunga- 
rians at  length  so  disgusted  and   exasperated  the 
Neapohtans,  that  they  rose  with  one  accord  against 
the  invaders,  and  the  nobility  sent  a  deputation  to 
Joanna,  inviting  her  to  return,  and  promising  their 
support  and  aid  against  her  enemies.     Joanna  gladly 
avaiied  herself  of  this  summons,  and  with  a  nume- 
rous and  brilliant  retinue  of  noble  knights,  w^ho  had 
sworn  to  die  in  her  cause,  she  returned  to  Naples, 
where  she  was  welcomed  by  her  people  with  the 
most  enthusiastic  rapture.     The  court  resumed  its 
gayety  and  splendour ;  for  Louis  of  Taranto,  the  hus- 
band of  Joanna,  was  in  his  habits  as  princely  and 


82  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

magnificent  as  he  was  brave  and  handsome  in  per- 
son, and  almost  all  the  young  nobility  crowded  to 
their  banners.  Those  who  in  the  late  struggle  had 
been  disaffected  or  neutral  were  pardoned;  those 
who  had  stood  faithful,  and  had  suffered  from  the 
tyranny  of  the  Hungarians,  were  welcomed  with 
joy,  and  loaded  with  gifts  and  honours.  Some  at- 
tempts were  made  to  enter  into  an  accommodation 
with  Louis  of  Hungary;  but  that  fierce  and  cruel 
monarch,  enraged  at  a  reverse  so  little  expected,  re- 
jected all  pacific  overtures  with  disdain,  and  return- 
ing with  a  large  army,  he  again  invaded  Naples,  but 
not  with  the  same  success  ;  the  people  had  learned 
the  difference  between  his  government  and  that  of 
the  mild  Joanna,  and  everywhere  they  rose  against 
him.  Louis  of  Taranto  led  the  armies  of  the  queen, 
and  opposed  the  mercenaries  of  Hungary  with  equal 
valour  and  prudence ;  the  war  still  lasted  two  years 
before  the  troops  of  the  Hungarian  king  were  finally 
driven  from  Naples,  and  it  was  marked  by  many 
vicissitudes,  by  many  daring  exploits,  and  by  the 
usual  accompaniments  of  misery,  bloodshed,  and 
desolation.  Joanna,  feeling  for  the  wretched  condi- 
tion of  her  subjects,  endeavoured  to  alleviate  it  by  ' 
every  means  in  her  power ;  and  Louis  of  Taranto, 
with  the  chivalrous  feeling  which  distinguished  his 
age  and  personal  character,  offered  to  terminate  the 
horrors  of  this  domestic  war  by  encountering  the 
King  of  Hungary  in  single  combat.  The  Hunga- 
-"ian  monarch  accepted  the  challenge,  but  the  duel, 
for  some  unknown  reasons,  did  not  take  place.  Pope 
Clement  sent  his  legate  to  mediate  between  the  two 
parties  ;  and  the  King  of  Hungary,  finding  it  impossi- 
ble to  retain  possession  of  Naples,  concluded  a 
treaty  on  the  terms  required  by  Joanna ;  that  is,  the 
establishment  of  the  government  according  to  the 
will  of  her  grandfather  Robert,  and  the  title  of  king 
for  her  husband  Louis  of  Taranto. 
Two  incidents  connected  with  this  treaty  will 


JOANNA    OF    SICILY.  83 

serve  to  show  the  spirit  of  those  limes,  in  the  jajoss 
superstition  whioh  could  cloud  a  brilliant  intellect, 
and  the  magnanimity  which  could  occasionally  min- 
gle with  the  most  detestable  ferocity.  Joanna,  in 
solemnly  repeating  her  declaration  of  innocence, 
relative  to  the  murder  of  Andreas,  attributed  the 
dissensions  which  existed  between  them  to  sorcery  . 
and  Louis  of  Hungary  refused  to  accept  the  one 
hundred  thousand  florins  which  the  pope  had  ad- 
judged to  him,  as  an  indemnity  for  the  expenses  of 
the  war,  saying,  with  a  fierce  generosity,  "  I  did 
not  come  hither  to  sell  my  brother's  blood,  but 
avenge  it!" 

Peace  was  thus  restored  in  1353,  after  a  sangui- 
nary contest  which  had  lasted  more  than  four  years 
from  the  first  invasion  of  Louis  of  Hungary.  A 
bull  being  granted  by  Pope  Clement  for  the  corona- 
tion of  Joanna  and  Louis,  the  ceremony  took  place 
at  Naples,  and  was  performed  with  extraordinary 
splendour  and  rejoicings.  Magnificent  recompenses 
were  distributed  by  the  young  sovereigns  to  those 
who  had  served  them  faithfully  during  the  late  war. 
The  nobility  tendered  their  allegiance  with  one  ac- 
cord ;  the  populace,  enchanted  by  the  transition 
from  a  cruel  war  to  the  blessings  of  peace,  and  by 
their  delivery  from  their  Hungarian  oppressors, 
threw  up  their  caps  and  shouted  their  congratula- 
tions ;  the  streets  of  Naples  resounded  with  joy  and 
exultation,  and  the  whole  land  seemed  to  burst  into  a 
hymn  of  thanksgiving  at  this  termination  of  all  dis- 
asters, this  promise  of  future  felicity  and  peace. 
But  poor  Joanna !  she  was  doomed  to  taste  #f  grief 
in  every  possible  form  ;  and  on  this  great  day  of  tri- 
umph, which  beheld  her  at  length  securely  seated 
on  the  throne  of  her  fathers,  even  while  the  shout 
of  revelry  echoed  round  her  palace,  there  was 
weeping  and  waihng  within.  When,  after  their 
coronation,  Louis  and  Joanna  returned  from  their 
solemn  cavalcade  round  the  city,  they  found  their 


84  FEMALE    SOVEREIGN'S. 

only  child,  then  about  four  years  old,  dead  in  her 
cradle;  by  what  accident  does  not  appear,  but  appa- 
rently of  some  sudden  fit  or  other  disorder  incidentaf 
to  childhood.  During  the  late  war  Joanna's  son  by 
Andreas  had  been  carried  off  into  Hungary,  and  had 
died  there ;  and  another  little  daughter,  born  subse- 
quently, also  perished  in  her  infancy :  we  may  well 
believe  that  for  sorrows  and  privations  such  as 
these  no  outward  prosperity  could  console  the 
mother's  heart. 

In  the  year  1356  Joanna  and  Louis  were  invited 
by  the  Sicilians  to  reign  over  their  country,  and  the 
next  year  Joanna  was  solemnly  cro  wjied  at  Messina : 
but  before  she  had  entirely  settled  the  government 
of  her  new  kingdom,  she  was  recalled  to  Naples  by 
fresh  disturbances  and  contentions,  which  in  her 
absence  had  broken  out  between  Philip  of  Taranto, 
the  elder  brother  of  her  husband,  and  Louis  of  Du- 
razzo,  the  brother  of  that  Duke  of  Durazzo  who 
had  married  her  sister,  and  had  been  nmrdered  by 
the  King  of  Hungary.  Both  these  princes  were  re- 
duced to  submission ;  and  on  the  death  of  Louis  of 
Durazzo,  whose  turbulence  and  haughtiness  had 
often  agitated  her  kingdom  and  disquieted  her  ow^n 
domestic  peace,  Joanna  gave  a  strong  proof  of  her 
benevolent  and  forgiving  disposition.  She  took  un- 
der her  peculiar  care  his  orphan  son,  Charles  of 
Durazzo,  educated  him  at  lier  own  charge,  and 
treated  him  in  all  respects  with  the  tenderness  of  a 
mother.  This  boy,  destined  to  cause  the  destruc- 
tion of  Ids  benefactress,  was  then  about  twelve 
years  old. 

Thre?  years  of  comparative  tranquillity  ensue/1 
In  1362  Louis  of  Taranto  died  of  a  fever,  the  con 
sequence  of  his  own  intemperance.  He  had  latterly 
given  himself  up  to  a  course  of  dissipation,  which 
must  have  grieved  and  displeased  his  consort ;  but 
she  loved  him  to  the  last,  in  spite  of  the  wrongs  and 
infidelities  of  wliich  she  had  too  often  to  complain. 


JOANNA    OF    SICILY.  85 

One  of  the  women  about  the  court,  who  was  mis- 
tress of  Louis,  had  endeavoured  to  paUiate  her  own 
misconduct  by  cahnnniating  the  queen.  Louis 
either  beheved,  or  pretended  to  beheve,  this  slander ; 
he  burst  into  the  most  violent  reproaches  against 
his  wife ;  and  it  is  even  said  that  in  the  height  of 
his  fury  he  struck  her.  Joanna  sent  for  the  woman, 
confronted  her  with  her  husband,  and  easily  proved 
the  falsehood  of  both  ;  but  instead  of  punishing  her 
rival  and  accuser,  she  merely  dismissed  her  from 
the  court,  saying  with  dignity,  "  Thank  your  God 
that  your  enemy  is  your  queen !"  If  we  consider 
\he  passionate  attachment  which  Joanna  entertained 
*i)r  her  husband,  and  the  wrongs  she  had  just  re- 
ceived, as  a  woman,  a  wife,  and  a  sovereign,  a  no- 
bler, a  more  beautiful  instance  of  female  magna- 
nimity can  hardly  be  imagined. 

Being  left  a  second  time  a  widow,  and  without 
children,  Joanna  was  advised  by  her  council  to  en- 
ter into  a  third  marriage,  as  necessary  to  the  tran- 
quillity of  her  kingdom.  She  agreed  to  the  election 
of  her  ministers,  whose  choice  had  fallen  on  James 
of  Majorca,  the  son  of  the  King  of  Majorca,  and 
their  union  was  celebrated  with  great  magnificence. 
The  marriage-feast  was  held  at  Gaeta,  and  a  love- 
lier spot  could  hardly  have  been  chosen  to  celebrate 
a  royal  bridal.  A  very  singular  incident  distinguished 
the  festivities  on  this  occasion;  Joanna  had 
chosen  as  her  partner  in  the  dance  Prince  Galeazzo 
of  Mantua,  who,  in  his  rapture  for  such  courteous 
condescension,  made  a  vow  that  he  would  requite 
the  honour  she  had  done  him,  by  bringing  to  the 
foot  of  her  throne  two  captive  knights,  to  be  dis- 
posed of  as  she  thought  fit.  At  the  end  of  a  year, 
he  appeared  before  her  with  two  knights  of  noble 
biood  and  approved  valour,  whom  he  had  vanquished 
in  single  combat,  and  presented  them  to  her  as  her 
slaves  by  all  the  laws  of  chivalry.  Galeazzo  having 
thus  acouitted  himself  of  his  vow,  the  queen  equally 


86  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

fulfilled  her  duty  as  a  lady  and  a  princess ;  she  ^rt* 
the  knights  their  freedom,  and  sent  them  back  to 
their  country  loaded  with  presents. 

The  Prince  of  INIajorca  bore  a  high  character  for 
honour  and  bravery.  But  Joanna  was  not  destined 
to  derive  either  happiness  or  advantage  from  this 
most  luckless  marriage.  Within  three  months  after 
their  union,  her  husband  quitted  her  to  avenge  the 
death  of  his  father,  who  had  been  treacherously 
murdered  by  Peter  King  of  Arragon.  Joanna  was 
therefore  left  alone  and  unaided  to  guide  her  fickle 
people  and  rule  her  turbulent  nobility.  She  had  the 
grief  to  hear  that  her  husband,  whose  valour  was 
more  rash  than  prudent,  was  first  defeated,  and  af- 
terward— though  supported  by  the  friendship  and 
assistance  of  Edward  the  Black  Prince — taken 
prisoner  and  detained  in  Arragon.  His  generous 
queen  paid  an  immense  ransom  for  his  freedom  ;  but 
no  sooner  had  he  returned  to  Naples  than  he  pre- 
pared another  expedition  to  avenge  his  father.  Jo- 
anna used  every  argument,  and  even  descended  to 
entreaties,  to  dissuade  him  from  his  purpose,  but  in 
vain ;  he  pursued  the  war  with  all  the  inveterate 
obstinacy  of  hatred  and  revenge,  and  in  the  midst 
of  his  violent  career  he  fell  sick  and  died. 

Joanna  was  again  advised  by  her  council  to  mar- 
ry ;  but  this  time  she  deliberately  refused,  and  re- 
solved to  struggle  alone  against  the  difficulties  of 
her  situation,  rather  than  again  subject  herself  to 
the  pain  and  continual  anxiety  she  had  suffered  from 
her  union  with  James  of  Majorca. 

The  twelve  following  years,  during  which  Joanna 
held  the  reins  of  government  unassisted  and  uncon- 
trolled, were  marked  by  successes  abroad  and  tran- 
quillity and  prosperity  at  home.  The  bands  of  rob- 
bers who  had  infested  her  kingdom  were  destroyed 
or  dispersed :  by  a  mixture  of  firmness  and  gentle- 
ness she  curbed  the  pride  of  her  nobility,  so  that  it 
was  said  "  they  trembled  at  her  frown,  while  they 


JOANNA    OF   SICILY.  87 

courted  her  smiles."    The  strict  administration  of 
justice  in  lier  dominions,  the  security  of  the  roads, 
and  her  excellent  ordinances  for  the  encouragement 
of  commerce,  were  the  admiration  of  neighbouring 
states.  The  mariner's  compass  was  first  constructed, 
if  not  invented,  in  her  reign,  by  one    of  her  sub- 
jects, Gioja  Flavio,  a  mathematician  of  Amalfi.   Her 
court  was  considered  one  of  the  most  brilliant  in 
Europe,  and  the  modesty  of  her  own  manners  main- 
tained its  propriety.     Her  patronage  of  the  arts  and 
learning  was  liberal,  and  even  magnificent.     She 
built  many  churches  and  palaces,  and  endowed  the 
hospital  of  St.  Anthony.     Those  who  have  driven 
along  the  beautiful  shore  of  the  Mergellina,  uttder 
the  promontory  of  Posilippo,  will   remember   the 
ruins  of  the  unfinished  palace  beneath   the   clifl', 
with  the  blue  sea  breaking  against  its  foundations — 
the  "  Palace  of  Queen  Joanna,"  as  it  is  still  called. 
The  completion  of  this  edifice  was  apparently  in- 
terrupted by  her  subsequent  misfortunes.     Nothing 
can  be  more  splendid  than  its  situation ;  nor  more 
mournful  in  its  appearance  and  the  associations  con- 
nected with  it. 

Joanna  at  this  time  undertook  no  foreign  wars. 
Satisfied  with  defending  her  own  people  and  her 
own  rights,  she  uniformly  protected  the  poor  against 
the  rich,  and  the  weak  against  the  strong ;  and  ap- 
pears to  have  been  really  one  of  the  most  blameless 
women,  and  one  of  the  most  wise  and  magnani- 
mous sovereigns  that  ever  filled  a  throne  ;  yet  the 
close  of  her  life  was  darkened  by  misfortunes  even 
worse  than  those  which  assailed  her  in  her  youth. 
She  had  adopted,  as  it  has  been  already  related, 
Charles  of  Durazzo,  and  married  him  to  her  favour- 
ite niece  Margaret,  the  daughter  of  her  sister  Maria. 
Charles  of  Durazzo  possessed  many  great  qualities 
which  justified  this  preference,  and  the  intentions 
of  the  queen  to  bequeath  him  her  crown ;  but  he 
had    bnuiidless    ambition,   a  restless   and  warlike 


88  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

temper;  and  instead  of  remaining  near  Joanna  as 
her  defender  and  counsellor  (as  her  wishes  and  his 
own  interests  equally  required  him),  he  left  her  to 
seek  military  distinction  under  the  banners  of  her  old 
enemythe  King  of  Hungary.  She  was  thus  once  more 
left  alone  ;  and  in  a  situation  of  great  difficulty  and 
danger,  she  was  induced  to  enter  into  a  fourth  mar- 
riage, at  the  age  of  forty-six ;  her  choice  fell  on 
Otho  of  Brunswick,  a  prince  of  the  Guelph  family, 
distinguished  for  almost  every  accompUshment  of 
mind  and  person,  and  of  years  equal  to  her  own. 
Without  demanding  the  title  of  king,  or  arrogating 
any  power  to  himself,  this  generous,  brave,  and 
amiable  man  won  and  deserved  the  entire  affection 
of  his  queen,  and  maintained  her  throne  for  some 
time  in  peace  and  security. 

In  the  fourteenth  century,  during  the  latter  years 
of  Joanna's  reign,  two  rival  popes  divided  Christen- 
dom between  them.  The  emperor  of  Germany,  the 
kings  of  England,  Denmark,  Sweden,  and  Hungary 
and  Bohemia,  most  of  the  states  of  Italy  and  Flan- 
ders, adhered  to  pope  Urban  VI.  While  the  kings 
of  France,  Spain,  Naples,  Scotland,  Cyprus,  Savoy, 
the  dukedom  of  Austria,  some  of  the  Italian  and 
many  of  the  German  states,  acknowledged  Clement 
VII.  This  event,  which  ranks  among  the  grand 
data  of  modern  history,  is  called  the  "  Great  Schism 
of  the  West." 

Clement,  who  was  a  native  of  Geneva,  and  held 
his  court  at  Avignon,  was  mild,  learned,  and  pious ; 
Urban,  on  the  contrary,  was  violent,  arrogant, 
treacherous,  and  cruel ;  he  took  up  his  residence  at 
Rome,  and  during  his  pontificate  that  city  was  a 
scene  of  atrocity  and  oppression  almost  unparal- 
leled, even  in  the  time  of  the  Borgias. 

Urban  had  a  nephew  named  Butillo,  whom  it  was 
his  ambition  to  raise  to  an  independent  principality. 
In  those  days  the  popes  assumed  to  themselves  the 
right  of  appointing  and  dethroning  monarchs ;  and 


JOANNA    OF    SIUILV.  89 

Urban,  at  the  very  moment  'that  he  professed  a 
friendship  for  Joanna  and  accepted  her  gifts,  des- 
patched  a  messenger  to  Charles  of  Durazzo,  and 
offered  to  grant  him  the  investiture  of  the  crown 
oi  Naples,  provided  he  would  yield  to  his  nephew 
Butillo  certain  principalities  in  that  kingdom. — 
Charles  of  Durazzo  was  at  first  shocked  at  a  pro- 
posal so  monstrous ;  but  he  listened,  debated,  and 
reflected,  till,  by  continually  brooding  over  this 
project,  its  atrocity  and  ingratitude  lessened  to  his 
view,  aijd  the  temptation  hourly  increased.  Before 
he  could  take  any  open  measures  against  his  bene- 
factress, it  was  necessary  to  withdraw  his  wife  and 
children  from  her  power :  they  had  constantly  re- 
sided in  the  palace  of  Joanna,  as  a  part  of  her 
family,  and  were  all  treated  by  her  with  truly  ma- 
ternal tenderness.  When  Margaret  of  Durazzo 
required  permission  to  leave  Naples  and  join  her 
husband,  the  generous  queen  suspected  the  motive 
of  the  request — for  she  had  received  some  intima- 
tion of  the  designs  entertained  by  Charles  of  Dii- 
razzo,  and  of  his  secret  negotiations  with  the  pope 
— yet  she  suffered  her  niece  to  depart  with  all  the 
honours  due  to  her  rank.  It  was  their  first  separa- 
tion and  their  last  parting,  for  they  never  met  again. 

A  few  weeks  afterward,  in  1381,  Charles  of  Du- 
razzo entered  Italy  at  the  head  of  a  large  army, 
and  marched  to  take  possession  of  the  kingdom, 
which  he  claimed  by  the  pope's  investiture,  m  de- 
fiance of  every  law  of  justice,  right,  and  gratitude. 
He  advanced  to  Naples,  and  attacked  Joanna  in  her 
capital.  Otho  of  Brunswick  had  levied  an  army  to 
oppose  him,  and  while  the  two  parties  were  con- 
tending round  the  walls  and  in  the  streets  of  Naples, 
the  queen,  who  was  in  hourly  expectation  of  suc- 
cours from  Provence,  threw  herself  for  present  se- 
curitv  into  the  fortress  of  the  Castel  Novo,  and 
comnianded  the  gates  to  be  sl-^it.  At  that  moment 
R  crowd  of  old  men,  women,  and  children,  and   a 


90  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

number  of  the  clergy,  flying  from  the  ferocious 
enemy,  presented  themselves  before  the  entrance, 
and  implored  a  refuge  and  protection.  Joanna  had 
only  a  certain  quantity  of  provisions :  to  admit 
these  people  was  imprudent ;  to  refuse  them  bar- 
barous. She  could  not  harden  her  heart  against 
their  cries  and  entreaties,  and  commanded  them  to 
be  taken  in  to  share  her  last  asylum.  Her  gene- 
rosity was  fatal  to  her;  for  thus  the  provisions,  which 
would  have  lasted  seven  months,  were  consumed  in 
one.  Being  in  expectation  of  relief  from  Provence, 
and  from  her  brave  husband,  who  was  still  before 
the  walls,  though  the  partisans  of  Durazzo  had  pos- 
session of  the  city,  Joanna  held  out  to  the  last,  and 
until  she  and  her  companions  had  endured  the  ex- 
tremity of  famine.  Two  of  her  nieces  were  with 
her;  the  eldest  of  these,  Agnes,  Duchess  of  Du- 
razzo, was  a  woman  of  a  covetous  spirit,  who  had  ac- 
cumulated great  riches ;  yet  before  the  siege  she 
had  refused,  on  some  pretence,  to  lend  the  queen  a 
sum  of  money  to  aid  in  her  defence  ;  when  this 
woman  beheld  the  terrible  sufferings  of  Joanna,  and 
the  miserable  extremity  to  which  herself  and  others 
were  reduced,  she  was  seized  with  vain  remorse. 
She  filled  an  immense  vase  with  her  gold  and  jewels, 
and  carrying  it  into  the  apartment  of  the  queen,  she 
laid  it  at  her  feet,  in  silence  and  in  tears.  Joanna 
thanked  her  with  a  sad  smile,  but  added,  "  that  it 
was  now  too  late.  A  sack  of  wheat,"  said  she, 
"were  more  precious  to  me  now,  my  fair  niece 
than  all  this  treasure,  which  you  have  reserved  only 
to  fall  a  prey  to  our  common  enemy." 

Meantime  Otho  of  Brunswick  made  a  desperate 
attempt  to  release  his  queen.  He  assembled  all  hia 
forces,  and  attacked  Durazzo  immediately  under  the 
walls  of  the  city.  A  battle  ensued,  which  was  ob- 
stinately contested ;  but  neither  Otho's  talents  as  a 
commander,  nor  his  bravery,  animated  as  he  was  hy 
honour  and  despair,  availed  him ;  he  was  wouudei 


JOANNA    OF    SICILY.  91 

Struck  from  his  horse,  and  taken  prisoner,  and  his 
troops,  overpowered  and  disheartened,  fled  towards 
Aversa.  After  this  disastrous  defeat  it  was  in  vain 
for  Joanna  to  resist.  She  had  pledged  herself,  if 
not  relieved,  to  surrender  on  the  Sf.ih  of  August, 
and  accordingly  on  that  day  Charles  of  Durazzo 
entered  the  castle  as  conqueror;  but  so  much  did 
his  former  habits  of  love  and  reverence  for  the 
queen  prevail  even  at  such  a  moment,  that  from  an 
involuntar)^  impulse,  he  fell  at  the  feet  of  his  un- 
happy captive,  and  poured  forth  excuses  and  pro- 
fessions of  respect : — he  even  addressed  her  by  the 
tender  and  sacred  name  of  mother — the  name  he 
had  been  accustomed  to  give  her  in  his  childish 
years. 

The  queen,  restraining  her  indignation,  merely 
replied  by  demanding  for  herself  and  her  husband 
the  treatment  due  to  their  rank,  and  recommending 
her  friends  in  the  castle  to  his  mercy,  particularly 
the  women  and  clergy. 

Four  days  after  her  surrender  the  expected  suc- 
cours arrived  from  Provence.  Ten  galleys  laden 
with  provisions  sailed  into  the  bay  of  Naples,  which, 
had  they  reached  her  before,  would  have  saved  her 
country,  her  throne,  and  her  life.  Wlien  Charles 
of  Durazzo  had  the  queen  in  his  power,  he  endea- 
voured, first  to  persuade,  and  then  to  force  her  to 
give  up  her  title  to  the  kingdom,  and  yield  him  up 
the  sovereignty  of  Provence ;  and  after  many  con- 
ferences, he  began  to  hope  that  he  had  at  last  terrified 
or  beguiled  her  into  making  some  concession  in  his 
favour.  With  this  idea  he  granted  a  safe-conduct  to 
the  commanders  of  the  Proven9al  galleys,  and  other 
chiefs  who  yet  remained  faithful  to  Joanna,  and  per- 
mitted them  to  appear  in  her  presence  for  the  last 
time  ;  but,  instead  of  the  result  he  had  expected, 
this  high-minded  woman  seized  the  opportunity  to 
assert  her  own  dignity  and  power,  and  confound  her 
oppressor.      She   began  by  gently  upbraiding   hex 


92  FEMALE  SOVEREIGNS. 

friends  with  the  tardiness  of  their  arrival ;  she  then 
solemnly  revoked  the  declaration  she  had  formerly 
made  in  favour  of  Durazzo  ;  claimed  their  allegiance 
for  Louis  of  Anjou,  as  her  heir  and  successor,  and 
commanded  them  never  to  acknowledge  as  their 
sovereign  the  ungrateful  traitor  and  usurper  who  had 
seized  her  throne,  and  now  held  her  a  prisoner  in  her 
own  palace. — "  If  ever,"  said  she,  "  you  are  told 
hereafter  that  I  have  admitted  his  unjust  claims, 
believe  it  not !  even  if  they  place  before  you  an 
act  signed  by  my  hand,  regard  it  as  false,  or  ex- 
torted from  me  by  fraud  or  violence — believe  it  not ! 
— believe  not  your  own  eyes  ! — believe  nothing  but 
these  tears  which  I  shed  before  you,  and  avenge 
them  I" 

Her  adherents  swore  to  obey  her  last  commands, 
and  left  her  presence  weeping  as  they  went.  Du- 
razzo, exasperated  by  her  firmness,  ordered  her  to  be 
more  closely  confined,  and  for  eight  months  she  suf- 
fered all  the  miseries  and  insults  that  could  be  heaped 
on  her  by  a  cruel  and  ungrateful  adversary.  Every 
day,  however,  fresh  disturbances  arose  to  distract 
him  :  the  friends  of  Joanna  were  everywhere  assem- 
bling; the  populace  were  ready  to  rise  in  her  behalf, 
and  many  nobles  were  in  open  rebelHon  against  him. 
Perhaps  Charles  of  Durazzo  had  not  in  the  first  in- 
stance contemplated  the  monstrous  crime  to  which 
he  was  now  driven,  and  by  which  he  consummated  his 
treason ;  but  who  that  plunges  into  the  torrent  of 
ambition  can  tell  whither  it  will  carry  him  1  The 
usurper,  finding  that  as  long  as  Joanna  existed,  there 
was  neither  repose  nor  security  for  him,  resolved  on 
her  destruction.  He  despatched  her  to  the  castle  of 
Muro,  a  dismal  and  solitary  fortress  in  the  Apen- 
nines, about  sixty  miles  from  Naples  :  and  her  spirit 
still  holding  out — even  in  this  wretched  abode,  so 
that  his  threats  were  only  answered  by  defiance, 
and  his  persuasions  by  scorn — he  sent  four  Hunga- 
iKia  soldiers  with  orders  to  put  her  to  death.     The 


JOANNA    OF    SICILY.  93 

manner  of  her  assassination  is  not  certain,  but  it  is 
most  probable  she  was  either  strangled  or  suffocated 
for  when  her  body  was  afterward  exposed  to  public 
view  in  the  church  of  Santa  Chiara,  it  exhibited  no 
sign  of  external  violence.  She  was  murdered  on 
ihe  22d  of  May,  1382,  after  a  reign  of  thirty-nine 
y^ears. 

Such  was  the  end  of  Queen  Joanna;  "a  most 
rare  and  noble  lady,"  a  just  and  beneficent  queen, 
of  whom  Boccaccio  has  left  this  memorable  testi- 
mony,— "  I  not  only  esteem  her  illustrious  and 
resplendent  by  conspicuous  excellence,  but  the  sin- 
gular pride  of  Italy,  and  such  as  altogethei"  no  other 
nation  has  ever  seen  her  equal." 

Joanna  was  buried  in  the  church  of  Santa  Chiara, 
at  Naples,  wliere  her  tomb  is  now^  to  be  seen.  Her 
memory  is  still  revered  by  the  populace,  and  her 
name  familiar  on  their  lips.  If  you  ask  a  Neapoli 
tan  in  the  street  who  built  such  a  palace,  or  such  a 
church'?  the  answer  is  generally  the  same,  "Our 
Queen  Joanna." 

Otho  of  Brunswick,  her  brave  husband,  remained 
two  years  a  prisoner ;  he  was  afterward  released, 
on  condition  that  he  should  never  again  enter  the 
kingdom  of  Naples,  and  died  on  the  field  of  battle, 
fighting  in  the  cause  of  Louis  of  Anjou,  the  heir  of 
Joanna.  Her  assassin,  Charles  of  Durazzo,  met 
with  a  doom  which  should  seem  to  have  been  con- 
trived by  the  avenging  furies.  After  a  turbulent 
imhappy  reign  of  three  short  years,  he  deemed  him- 
self securely  fixed  on  the  throne  of  Naples,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  Hungary  to  wrest  that  crown  from  Maria, 
the  daughter  and  heiress  of  Louis  of  Hungary,  tlie 
old  enemy  of  Queen  Joanna.  The  young  Queen  of 
Hungary,  who  was  then  about  fifteen,  was  of  a 
generous,  frank,  and  noble  nature ;  but  her  mother, 
the  Regent  Elizabeth,  was  more  than  a  match  for 
Durazzo  in  artifice  and  cruelt}'.  By  her  niacliina- 
tions  he  was  decoyed  into  the  apartment  of  Maria, 

1.— G 


94  FEMALK    SOVKREIONS. 

and  while  he  stood  reading  a  paper,  a  gigantic  Hun. 
garian,  secretly  stationed  for  that  purpose,  felled 
him  to  the  e;irth  with  his  sabre.  His  death,  how- 
ever, was  not  instantaneous  :  he  lingered  for  two 
days  in  agonies,  neglected  and  abandoned ;  at  length 
his  enemies,  becoming  impatient  of  his  prolonged 
existence,  and  fearful  of  Ins  recovery,  caused  him 
to  be  suffocated  or  strangled. 

"  Voila,"  says  Brantome,  after  relating  the  death 
of  Joanna  and  the  fate  of  her  murderer, — "  Voila  un 
juste  jugement  de  Dieu,  et  une  noble  et  brave  prin- 
cesse,  vengeresse  de  son  sang  innocent. 

"  Voila  aussi  la  fin  de  cette  brave  reyne  qu'on  a 
calomniee  bien  legereraent." 

Gaillard,  in  his  "  Rivalite  de  la  France  et  de  I'Es- 
pagne,"  terminates  his  account  of  Joanna  of  Na])les 
by  observing,  that  history  affords  no  subject  more 
powerfully  dramatic  than  the  life  of  this  queen.  In 
fact,  what  splendid  materials  for  tragedy  and  ro- 
mance— for  a  Shakspeare  or  a  Scott — in  the  char- 
acters, passions,  incidents,  and  wild  vicissitudes  of 
which  I  have  just  given  a  rapid  and  superficial 
sketch.  Joanna  herself,  vvith  ail  her  elegance  and 
loveliness ;  her  tenderness  and  her  magk^'iimity ; 
her  wrongs,  her  sorrows,  and  her  miserable  end  : — 
the  gifted  intriguing  Catanese  ; — her  daughter,  the 
beautiful  and  faithful  Sancha ;  the  villain  friar ;  the 
chivalrous  Prmce  of  Taranto  ;  the  fierce  implacable 
Louis  of  Hungary;  the  perfidious,  ambitious  Du- 
razzo ;  with  Boccaccio  and  his  Fiammetta ;  and 
then  Petrarch  appearing  occasionally  among  them 
like  a  superior  intelligence,  a  being  of  another  sphere : 
— what  a  group  to  be  brought  together  within  the 
same  canvass !  what  variety  !  what  brilliant  con- 
trast !  what  light  and  shade  !  what  capabilities  of 
scener\  and  costume,  in  the  country,  the  manners, 
and  the  age  !  La  Harpe  has  written  a  tragedy  on 
the  story  of  Joanna,  which  is  as  dry  and  formal  as 
the  rest  of  his  tragedies  ;  the  use  he  has  made  of  the 


JOANNA    II.    OF    NAPLES.  95 

magnificent  materials  before  him  reminds  us  of  the 
pontiff  who  demolished  the  interior  of  the  Colos- 
seum to  build  himself  a  palace  out  of  its  sublnne 
fragments.  There  is  also  a  French  novel  founded 
on  the  story  of  Philippa,  entitled  "  L'Histoire  de  la 
Catanoise,"  and  published  in  1731,  but  I  have  not 
been  able  to  meet  with  it. 


JOANNA  II.  OF  NAPLES. 

The  crimes  and  miseries  of  his  family  ceased  not 
with  the  horrible  catastrophe  of  Durazzo.  He  left 
two  children,  who  wore  successively  his  usurped 
crown.  Ladislas,  his  son,  equally  ambitious,  cruel, 
and  unprincipled,  after  a  reign  of  thirty  years  spent 
in  contending  for  the  possession  of  his  throne, 
perished  at  length  the  victim  of  his  own  depravities. 
During  this  period  literature  was  neglected,  the  arts 
declined,  and  Ladislas,  while  he  lived,  was  con- 
sidered as  the  scourge  of  the  countries  he  governed. 
He  died  in  1414,  and  was  succeeded  by  his  sister, 
the  Princess  Joanna.  In  the  Neapolitan  histories 
the  two  Joannas  are  distinguished  as  "  Queen  Gio- 
vanna,"  and  "  Queen  Giovannella,"  and  they  are  so 
very  different  in  conduct  and  character,  that  in  jus- 
tice to  Joanna  the  First,  she  should  never  be  con- 
founded with  Joanna  the  Second.  The  virtues  and 
talents  of  the  former  could  not  indeed  avert  the 
most  terrible  misfortunes  from  herself  and  her  king- 
dom ;  but  a  mere  caprice  of  her  feeble  and  worthless 
namesake  entailed  upon  Italy  two  centuries  of  deso- 
lating war.  She  it  was  who  called  in  those  herds 
of  French  Avolves  which,  rushing  down  the  Alps, 
"  drank  th'  ensanguined  waters  of  the  Po,"  and 
spread  wnr,  pestilence,  and  famine  through  the  fertile 
plains  of  southern  Italy.     There  was  a  prophecy 


96  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

current  at  Naples,  in  her  time,  that  "  the  last  of  the 
Durazzi  sliould  be  the  ruin  of  her  country ;"  and 
Joanna,  who  was  perhaps  the  immediate  occasion 
of  this  prophecy,  was  certainly  the  remote  cause  of 
its  fulfilment. 

She  was  born  at  Naples  in  1371,  and  was  the  oniy 
daughter  of  Charles  of  Durazzo  by  his  wife  Mar- 
garet, the  favourite  niece  and  adopted  daughter  of 
the  first  Joanna.  At  the  death  of  her  father  she 
was  about  fifteen,  and  during  the  minority  of  her 
brother  Ladislas,  remained  under  the  guardianship 
of  her  mother,  who  had  been  declared  regent.  The 
kingdom  was  divided  between  the  party  of  Ladislas 
and  that  of  Louis  of  Anjou,  who  were  both  in  their 
infancy ;  and  Margaret  of  Durazzo,  the  mother  of 
Ladislas,  and  Marie  de  Blois,  the  mother  of  Louis, 
were  at  the  head  of  the  respective  parties.  These 
two  wome'a  were  very  different  in  character,  but 
they  were  equal  in  talents,  and  for  twenty  years  car- 
ried on  the  terrible  struggle  for  power  with  equal 
boldness,  capacity,  and  obstinacy,  while  armies 
moved  at  their  bidding,  and  statesmen  and  warriors 
were  but  as  the  tools  with  which  they  worked  out 
their  purposes. 

Ladislas,  as  he  grew  up,  displayed  all  the  quaaties 
of  a  bold  but  fierce  soldier  ;  his  own  military  talents, 
combined  with  the  art  and  the  firmness  of  his 
mother,  and  a  number  of  concurring  circumstances, 
at  length  secured  him  the  superiority  over  his  riva] 
and  about  the  year  1399  the  court  was  once  more 
fixed  at  Naples. 

Amid  these  wars  and  intrigues,  in  continual  vicis 
Bitudes  of  flight  or  victory,  sometimes  in  a  camp  of 
fortress,  sometimes  in  a  convent  or  mixing  in  the 
£ourt  of  her  perfidious  and  profligate  brother,  Joanna 
spent  the  first  twenty-eight  years  of  her  life.  It 
was  proposed  in  this  interval  to  put  an  end  to  the 
war  by  uniting  Joanna  to  Louis  of  Anjou ;  but  the 
young  prince  shrank  with  horror  from  the  idea  of 


JOANNA    II.    OF    NAPLES.  97 

marryinof  the  (Umafhter  of  a  murderer,  and  his  motnei 
found  it  impossible  to  vanquish  his  repug'nance  to 
the  match.  When  Ladiskis  was  at  length  in  peace- 
able possession  of  his  kingdom,  his  first  care  was 
to  consolidate  his  power  by  forming  a  suitable  alli- 
ance for  his  sister,  and  he  married  her,  in  1403,  to 
William,  the  son  of  Leopold  III.  Duke  of  Austria ; 
within  three  years  she  became  a  widow,  and  re- 
turned to  Naples,  where  she  resided  in  the  court  of 
her  brother  during  the  remainder  of  his  reign. 

The  conduct  of  Joanna  both  before  and  after  her 
marriage  had  been  scandalously  profligate  ;  equally 
without  beauty  or  virtue,  she  yet  contrived  to  keep 
a  strong  party  round  her,  for  she  had  talents  of  a 
certain  class,  and  what  she  wanted  in  understanding 
was  supplied  by  artifice.  All  the  opprobrium  with 
which  her  former  life  had  covered  her  did  not  pre- 
vent her  from  being  proclaimed  queen  as  the  heiress 
of  her  brother  Ladislas,  and  on  his  death  in  1414, 
his  sceptre,  ill  gotten  and  blood-stained  as  it  was, 
passed  into  her  hands,  to  be  further  polluted  and  de- 
graded, and  at  length  flung,  hke  a  firebrand,  between 
the  rival  houses  of  Francfe  and  Spain .  Joanna  was  in 
her  forty-fourth  year  when  she  ascended  the  throne. 
Among  the  unworthy  favourites  who  had  surrounded 
her  as  duchess,  was  a  certain  Pandolfo  Alopo,  a 
man  of  plebeian  birth,  but  of  singular  beauty  of  per- 
son ;  he  had  been  her  cup-bearer,  and  on  her  acces- 
sion she  created  him  grand  seneschal,  or  chamber- 
lain,— one  of  the  highest  offices  under  the  crown, 
since  it  gave  him  the  disposal  of  the  principal  part 
of  the  revenues  ;  his  power  over  the  queen  was  un- 
bounded, and  he  used  it,  or  rather  abused  it,  with 
a  degree  of  audacity  which  rendered  himself  an  ob 
ject  of  hatred  and  his  mistress  of  scorn. 

But  in  a  short  time  he  found  a  formidable  rival  in 
the  famous  Sforza,  the  first  of  that  name,  and  founder 
of  that  dynasty  of  sovereigns  which  aftorward 
reigned  over  Milan 


98  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

During  the  intestine  wars  which  for  the  last  fifty 
years  had  set  at  variance  all  the  minor  states  of 
ttaly,  a  class  of  men  had  arisen  who  by  degrees 
almost  equalled  themselves  with  princes.  These 
were  the  Condoftien,  or  leaders  of  mercenary  bands, 
who  sold  their  services  for  stated  periods  to  the 
highest  bidder,  and  v/hen  not  in  the  pay  of  any  state 
or  sovereign,  lived  by  plunder  or  by  raising  contribu- 
tions on  the  towns  and  peasantry.  Sforza,  whose 
real  name  was  Muzio  Attendola,  liad  risen  from 
the  ranks  by  his  valour  and  intelligence  during  the 
reign  of  Ladislas.  He  was  distinguished  as  one  of 
the  most  formidable  of  these  Condottieri,  from  the 
number  and  discipline  of  his  followers,  as  well  as 
his  own  military  prowess  ;  and  on  the  accession  of 
Joanna,  he  Vv^as  considered  as  the  most  efficient  sup- 
port of  her  throne.  His  exploits,  his  bravery,  and 
iiis  personal  advantages  gradually  gained  him  an 
ascendency  over  tlie  weak,  excitable  Joanna ;  but 
Pandolfo  Alopo,  who  saw  with  terror  the  decline 
of  his  power,  contrived  to  fill  the  queen's  mind  with 
jealousy,  and  at  length  extorted  from  her  an  order 
by  which  Sforza  was  suddenly  arrested  and  closely 
imprisoned.  The  contentions  and  intrigues  of  these 
two  favourites  had  thrown  the  whole  kingdom  into 
confusion,  and  excited  the  indignation  of  the  nobility, 
and  the  murmurs  or  derision  of  the  populace.  The 
counsellors  of  Joanna  represented  that  the  only  ex- 
pedient to  restore  tranquillity  was  a  marriage  with 
some  foreign  prince,  whose  firm  administration 
would  awe  her  subjects,  and  strengthen  her  govern- 
ment at  home  and  abroad.  Though  the  queen  was 
no  longer  young,  and  her  frailties  but  too  public,  a 
crowd  of  competitors  presented  themselves,  and 
her  choice  fell  on  James  de  Bourbon,  Count  de  la 
Marche,  a  nobleman  of  illustrious  birth,  but  without 
sovereign  power  ;  he  was  distinguished  as  a  militnr^f 
leader,  and  possessed  of  many  generous  and  elevated 
qualities  ;    but  it  v/as   not   to   these   he  owed  the 


JOANNA    II.    OF    NAPLES.  99 

honour  or  dishonour  of  Joanna's  preference.  The 
Count  (Je  la  3.iarche  was  distantly  related  to  Charles 
VI.  th.e  reitruing  King  of  France ;  and  the  queen  and 
lier  counseilois  hoped  that  by  this  election  they 
M-ould  dctacli  the  French  king  from  the  interest  of 
Louis  of  Anjou.,  who  had  never  ceased  to  advance 
his  claims  to  the  crown  of  Naples.  Pandolfo  /\lopo 
had  done  every  thing  in  his  power  to  avert  this  in- 
tended marriage ;  he  beheld  in  a  legitimate  partner 
of  the  throne  and  heart  of  Joanna  the  downfall  of 
his  own  disgraceful  power.  But  finding  that  the 
unanimous  voice  of  the  nobles  and  the  people  ren- 
dered such  a  measure  inevitable,  he  endeavoured  to 
provide  for  his  own  safety  by  forming  a  numerous 
party  against  James  de  Bourbon,  previous  to  his 
arrival.  Further  to  strengthen  himself,  he  made 
overtures  to  Sforza,  who  remained  in  his  dungeon 
in  perfect  ignorance  of  the  cause  or  the  author  of 
his  disgrace ;  him  Alopo  visited,  expressed  his  pity 
for  his  misfortunes,  and  assured  him  that  his  own 
influence  and  that  of  his  sister  Catherine  d'Alopo, 
should  be  employed  in  his  favour.  Having  thus 
raised  the  hopes  and  tlie  spirits  of  the  prisoner,  he 
returned  a  few  days  after ;  "  My  sister,"  said  he, 
*'  has  been  indefatigable  in  her  exertions  for  you, 
and  you  well  know,  illustrious  Sforza,  that  even  my 
power  is  as  nothhig  compared  to  hers  :  I  now  come 
from  her  to  tell  you,  that  you  are  not  only  free,  but 
that  the  queen  acknowledges  her  injustice  towards 
you,  restores  you  to  her  favour,  and  ot!ers  you  once 
more  the  baton  of  grand  constable,  which  in  her 
name  I  bring  you." 

Alopo,  having  thus  liberated  his  rival  from  the  dun- 
geon to  which  his  own  machinations  had  condemned 
him,  found  it  easy  to  induce  him  to  accept  the  hand 
of  the  woman  to  whom  he  believed  himself  so  much 
indebted,  and  this  strange  coalition  was  sealed  by 
the  marriage  of  Sforza  with  Catherine  d'Alopo. 
While  these  intrigues  were  going  on  in  the  court  of 


100  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

Naples,  the  Count  de  la  Marche,  attended  by  a  bril- 
liant train  of  French  knights,  arrived  to  claim  the 
hand  of  his  bride.  The  marriage  was  celebrated 
with  due  magnificence,  and  on  the  same  day  Joanna 
bestowed  on  her  husband  the  title  of  king.  She  was 
then  in  her  forty-sixth  year. 

If  the  queen  had  hoped  to  find  in  the  Count  de  la 
IMarche  a  convenient  husband,  who  w^ould  consider 
the  honour  of  sharing  her  throne  sufficient  amends 
for  a  dishonoured  bed, — or  if  Pandolfo  and  Sforza 
had  expected  to  meet  with  a  monarch  who  was  to 
be  swayed  to  their  purposes,  and  to  retain,  either 
by  their  own  audacity  or  the  influence  of  the  queen, 
the  power  they  had  alternately  exercised, — all  were 
equally  mistaken.  The  new  king  had  believed,  or 
wished  to  beheve,  that  the  reports  of  Joanna's  con- 
duct were  either  false  or  exaggerated ;  but  after  his 
arrival  at  Naples,  the  whole  truth  by  degrees  opened 
upon  him ;  disclosures  the  most  w^ounding  to  a  hus- 
band's ear  met  him  on  every  side,  and  his  was  not  a 
spirit  tamely  to  submit  to  disgrace.  Shame,  jeal- 
ousy, and  rage  by  turns  possessed  him,  and,  using 
the  power  and  the  dignity  of  a  king  to  revenge  his 
injuries,  he  ordered  Pandolfo  and  Sforza  to  be  seized 
and  imprisoned :  the  former  was  first  put  to  the  tor- 
ture, confessed  his  guilt,  and  w^as  then  beheaded ; 
others  of  the  queen's  immediate  favourites  and  de- 
pendants were  put  to  death  or  banished ;  and  Joanna 
herself  was  confined  to  her  own  apartments,  deprived 
of  all  the  honours  due  to  her  rank,  and  guarded  day 
and  night  by  a  French  captain,  one  of  her  husband's 
retainers,  an  ill-favoured,  iron-visaged  old  man,  witli 
a  heart  as  hard  as  his  armour,  equall}'^  inaccessible 
to  pity  and  bribery.  Here  for  some  months  Joanna 
spent  her  time  in  weeping  over  her  fate  rather  than 
lamenting  her  past  errors,  and  forming  projects  of 
escape,  not  vows  of  reformation. 

In  he  mean  time  James  de  Bourbon  governed 
almost  absolutely  in  her  name  and  his  own.    Joanna 


JOANNA    II.    OF    NAPLES.  101 

hati  ill  many  instances  incurred  the  just  contempt 
of  her  sul)jects ;  but  her  mild  rule  and  gentle  dispo- 
sition contrast(^d  with  the  tyranny  and  ferc-city  of 
Ladislas  had  gaine*l  her  many  hearts ;  and  the  Nea- 
politans could  not  look  on  with  absolute  indifference 
while  her  husband,  a  foreigner,  treated  their  native 
queen  with  a  degree  «)f  severity  and  indignity  which 
at  length  roused  their  Itahan  blood  to  mutiny  and 
vengeance.  The  imprudence  of  James  furnished 
them  other  causes  of  discontent :  he  committed  the 
usual  but  dangerous  error  of  preferring  his  own 
countrymen  to  the  peojile  he  had  come  to  govein ; 
and  honours  and  offices  \a  ere  luvished  on  his  French 
followers  to  the  exclusion  of  the  Neapolitans,  wiio 
made  the  real  or  imagined  wrongs  of  the  queen  tlie 
plea  for  their  discontent  and  disatfection.  There 
were  others,  however,  who  were  apparently  influ- 
enced by  more  honourable  or  more  disinterested  mo- 
tives, and  at  the  head  of  these  was  a  young  Neapoli- 
tan whose  name  was  Gianni,  or  Sergiano  Carraccioli. 
Joanna,  by  an  artful  show^  of  submission  to  her  hus- 
band's will,  and  by  basely  betraying  one  or  two  of 
her  OW'U  friends  into  his  power,  had  so  wrought  upon 
him,  that  he  gave  her  permission  10  attend  a  mar- 
riage-feast given  by  one  of  the  nobles  who  were  m 
the  plot.  Carraccioli  and  his  friends  were  in  wait- 
ing to  receive  her,  fell  upon  her  giiards,  mas.^acred 
them,  and  carried  off  the  queen  in  triumph  to  the 
Castel  Capuana,  calling  on  the  Neapohtans  to  rise 
in  her  behalf.  The  people  were  seized  with  a  kind 
of  loyal  intoxication  ;  they  flew  to  arms,  surrounded 
the  Castel  Novo  with  shouts  of  execration,  and  were 
about  to  force  the  gates  and  inflict  summary  ven- 
geance on  the  devoted  king,  when  he  escaped  by  a 
private  way,  and  threw  himself  with  a  few  friends 
into  the  Castel  del  Ovo,  a  fortress  situated  upon  a 
rock  in  the  bay  of  Naples,  and  joined  to  tlie  main- 
land only  by  a  narrow  mole,  defended  by  dr.iw- 
bridges. 
I.— H 


102  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

Joanna  was  once  more  absolute  upon  her  tiirone, 
and  her  first  (mre  was  to  reward  her  hberators.  1  he 
chivalrous  Carraceioli,  who  had  first  engaged  in  hei 
cause,  quickly  assumed  that  ascendency  in  her  heari 
and  in  her  councils  which  had  been  possessed  by 
Alopo;  and  every  favour  that  the  gratitude  of  a 
w^oman  and  a  queen  could  bestow  was  freely  lav 
ished  on  him.  Sforza  v^^as  released  from  his  dun 
geon ;  all  the  French  were  deprived  of  their  ofllces, 
which  were  bestowed  on  Neapolitans ;  and  the  court 
became  once  more  a  scene  of  gayety,  dissipation, 
and  intrigue. 

In  the  mean  time  James  de  Bourbon  remained 
shut  up  in  the  Castel  del  Ovo,  where,  being  in  want 
of  provisions,  and  all  succours  intercepted,  he  would 
have  been  forced  to  surrender  at  discretion,  but  for 
the  interference  of  some  of  Joanna's  wisest  coun- 
sellors, wlio  were  anxious  to  avoid  this  additional 
scandal:  they  undertook  to  negotiate  between  the 
queen  and  her  husband,  and  at  length  a  hollow  recon- 
ciliation was  effected  on  terms  the  most  humiliating 
to  James.  It  was  agreed  that  he  should  resign  the 
title  of  king,  and  be  content  with  that  of  Prince  of 
Taranto;  that  all  his  French  followers  should  be 
dismissed  from  his  service,  and  sent  bafik  to  France ; 
and  that  the  sovereign  power  should  be  lodged  ex- 
clusively in  the  person  of  the  queen.  To  these  hard 
conditions  the  unfortunate  prince  acceded,  not  with- 
out many  a  painful  struggle  between  pride  and  ne- 
cessity ;  but  his  situation  was  critical,  and  admitted 
no  alternative.  He  signed  the  articles  submitted  to 
Iiim,  and  returned  to  inhabit  the  royal  palace,  no 
longer  as  king,  but  merely  as  the  husband  of  the 
queen. 

Where  mutual  wrongs  and  injuries,  and  those  of 
the  most  unpardonable  description,  had  struck  so 
deep,  it  could  hardly  be  expected  that  a  reconcilia- 
tion on  such  terms  could  be  either  sincere  or  dura- 
ble.   JGfines  felt  himself  a  spectacle  of  deri.'sion  and 


JOANNA    11.   01"    NAPLES.  103 

fiumiliation  in  a  court  crowded  by  insolent  and  aspir- 
ing favouiites, and  his  gloomy,  unbending  dej;ortnient 
betrayed  his  internal  disgust.  Joanna,  who  w^as  a 
better  dissembler,  concealed  her  feelings,  and  only 
waited  a  favourable  opportunity  to  rid  herself  of  one 
whom  she  now  regarded  merely  as  a  constraint  on 
her  pleasures  and  a  spy  on  her  actions.  The  ven 
geance  of  the  queen  was  for  some  time  retarded  by 
the  policy  of  Carraccioli,  but  it  was  not  the  less  de- 
termined, and  the  moment  at  length  arrived.  One 
evening,  as  they  were  seated  at  supper  in  the  palace, 
a  dispute  arose  relative  to  some  of  the  French  knights 
who  still  remained  in  the  kingdom,  contrary,  as  Jo- 
anna averred,  to  the  express  stipulation  on  that 
subject.  The  contention  rose  high,  and  at  length 
James,  rising  from  the  table  with  some  strong  ex- 
pressions of  contempt  and  indignation,  retired  to  his 
own  apartment.  Joanna,  instigated  by  Carraccioli 
had  previously  taken  her  measures ;  she  immediately 
ordered  the  doors  to  be  barred  and  bolted,  placed  a 
guard  before  them,  and  that  chamber  became  the 
dungeon  of  her  husband  for  three  long  years.  It 
was  now  her  turn  to  tyrannize  ;  and  though  a  natu- 
ral mildness  of  temper  prevented  her  from  proceed- 
ing to  the  last  extremities  against  her  unfortunate 
husband,  yet  no  remonstrances  or  entreaties  froni 
the  most  powerful  monarchs  could  induce  her  to 
liberate  him,  or  soften  the  rigorous  treatment  to 
which  he  was  subjected,  till  Pope  Martin  V.  inter- 
fered in  his  behalf  through  his  legate  Morosini.  At 
his  request  James  was  released,  and  retired  almost 
immediately  to  his  principalit}^  of  Taranto.  Thither 
persecution  and  mortification  foilov/ed  him ;  and  at 
length,  soured  by  disappointment,  and  almost  broken- 
hearted, he  returned  to  France.  Passing  through 
Besan(;on,  he  was  lodged  for  a  fev/  nights  in  a  con- 
vent of  Franciscans,  and  in  a  sudden  fit  of  religious 
melancholy  or  enthusiasm  he  assumed  the  habit  of 
this  order,  in  which  he  died  about  1438.     James  d© 


101  FEMALE-  SOVEREIGNS. 

served  a  better  fate ;  but  it  may  be  observed,  thai 
having  married  merely  from  motives  of  ambition 
such  a  woman  as  Joanna,  and  accepted  a  throne 
from  her  hands,  a  httle  more  suavity  of  temper  and 
conduct  had,  perhaps,  ensured  his  power  over  her, 
and  enabled  him,  without  compromising  his  own 
honour,  to  remove  from  her  those  favourites  who 
had  disgraced  her  court  and  sullied  her  reputation. 
But  he  had  been  too  rash  in  his  projects  of  reform : 
he  began  by  making  himself  detested,  and  this  with 
every  personal  advantage  which  might  have  secured 
him  the  heart  of  his  wife  and  an  ascendency  over 
her  mind.  All  his  excellent  qualities  were  neutral- 
ized by  that  gloomy  asperity  of  temper  which,  if 
carried  into  his  convent-cell,  must  have  rendered 
liim  as  wretched  in  his  character  of  a  monk  as  ho 
had  been  in  that  of  a  monarch.* 

But  we  must  return  to  Joanna.  The  power  of 
Carraccioli  daily  increased,  so  that  under  the  title 
of  seneschal  of  the  palace  he  in  fact  reigned  as  king 
He  was  a  man  of  consummate  art  as  well  as  great 
ambition,  and  before  his  authority  was  perfectly 
established,  his  government  was  so  conducted  as  to 
please  both  the  nobles  and  the  people.  Were  there 
any  whose  talents  or  vvhose  accomplishments  mad(? 
him  dread  a  rival  in  power  or  in  love,  he  quietly  re 
moved  them  from  the  precincts  of  the  court  by  giv- 
ing them  some  honourable  employment  at  a  distance. 

*  An  old  French  author,  who  does  not  give  James  much  credit  for  his 
conversion,  draws  a  ludicrous  picture  of  him  in  his  monkish  habili- 
ments. "  Olivier  de  la  Marche,  qui  6tait  alors  k  Besancjon,  et  le  vit 
quand  ce  roi  s'y  vint  rendre  Cordelier,  dit  qu'il  se  faisait  porter  pai 
^uatre  hommes  en  une  civiere,  telle  sans  aucun  difference  que  les  civi- 
eres  que  Ton  porte  les  fumiers  et  les  ordures,  et  6tait  d  demi-couch6 
(quel  sot  et  fat !)  demi-a|>puy6  et  lev6  4 1'encontre  d'un  m6chant  d6rompu 
oreiller  de  plume,  v^tu  pour  toute  j)arure  d'une  longue  robe  de  gris  do 
petit  prix  ;  et  6tait  ceint  d'une  corde  nou6e  A  la  faqon  d'un  Cordelier,  et 
en  la  t^te  avait  un  gros  bonnet  blanc.  que  I'on  appelle  une  culle,  nou6e 
cu  bridce  par  dessous  le  menton.  II  ne  lui  eut  fallu  qu'une  plume  de 
coq  suj  la  bonnette,  et  voJlA  le  galant  bien  v6iu  '.  .To  crois  que  si  la 
reyne,  sa  femme,  I'eut  ainsi  vu  habille  et  emb6^uin6,  elle,  qui  6taii 
toute  gentiUe  et  d'esprit,  s'en  serait  bien  moquee  1"" 


Jt)ANNA    II.   OF    NAPLES.  105 

Tlius  the  young  Count  Origlia,  who  had  attracted 
the  notice  of  Joanna,  was  sent  as  ambassador  to  the 
council  of  Constance, — an  office  which  he  accepted 
with  unsuspecting  gratitude ;  while  Sibrza,  the  val- 
iant Sforza,  was  despatched  to  Rome,  to  watch  over 
the  queen's  interests  in  that  city,  and  to  oppose  an- 
other famous  leader  of  the  age,  Braccio,  who  had 
sold  his  sen'ice  to  the  pope. 

But  it  was  not  long  before  Sforza  began  to  pene- 
trate the  designs  of  his  rival.  Oarraccioli,  by  with- 
holding money  and  supplies  for  the  troops,  continu- 
ally crossed  his  best  concerted  measures  and  checked 
the  progress  of  his  arms.  Sforza,  exasperated  by 
his  treachery,  and  having  in  vain  attempted  to  open 
the  queen's  eyes  to  the  real  character  of  her  favour- 
ite, tendered  back  his  ensigns  of  command  and  the 
royal  banner,  under  which  he  had  hitherto  conquered 
in  her  name.  Having  thus  formally  renounced  her 
service,  he  immediately  joined  the  party  of  Louis  of 
Anjou,  whose  pretensions  to  the  kingdom  of  Naples, 
founded  on  the  last  will  of  Joanna  I.,  were  still  in 
full  force,  and  acknowledged  by  many  of  the  foreign 
•and  many  of  the  native  princes. 

While  Louis,  supported  by  the  almost  invincible 
Sforza,  advanced  towards  Naples,  the  queen,  or  ra- 
ther Carraccioli,  who  was  now  all-powerful,  opposed 
them  by  a  grand  stroke  of  polic}'.  Joanna  called  in 
the  aid  of  Don  Alphonso,  surnamed  the  Magnani- 
tnous.  King  of  Arragon  and  Sicily,  who  had  some 
■distant  hereditary  claims  upon  her  throne;  and  being 
now  too  old  to  offer  him  her  hand,  she  formally 
adopted  him  as  her  son,  and  declared  him  her  heir, 
on  condition  that  he  would  defend  her  with  heart  and 
arms  against  her  enemies.  Alphonso,  then  in  the 
flower  of  his  age,  handsome,  brave,  ambitious,  was 
engaged  by  every  motive  of  generosity  and  policy 
to  attend  the  summons  of  an  oppressed  queen,  w^ho 
besought  his  assistance,  and  offered  him  so  rich  and 
enviable  a  heritage  as  his  recompense.     He  first 


100  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

despatched  a  powerful  fleet,  with  some  of  his  besi 
troops  on  board,  and  soon  afterward  landed  at  Na- 
ples with  a  splendid  and  martial  retmue,  and  made 
his  triumphant  entry  into  that  cit}^  July  7,  1421» 
Braccio,  changing  sides,  was  induced  to  take  the 
conniiand  of  the  queen's  troops,  and  again  opposed 
to  Sforza.  These  two  celebrated  generals  were 
personal  and  intimate  friends,  though  they  were  ri- 
vals in  mihtary  glory,  and  almost  always  combating 
for  opposite  interests.  After  various  vicissitudes  of 
war,  in  which  both  displayed  consummate  general- 
ship, Braccio  resolved,  if  possible,  to  reconcile  Sforza 
to  Joanna.  He  succeeded ;  Sforza  could  not  resist 
the  entreaties  and  caresses  of  the  queen,  and  the 
flatteries  of  Alphonso.  Again  changing  sides,  with 
marvellous  facility,  he  assumed  the  command  which 
Braccio  resigned  to  him,  and  with  Sforza  victory  re- 
turned to  the  banners  of  Naples. 

Joanna,  meantime,  was  declinmg  in  age  ;  and  her 
natural  feebleness  of  character  increasing  with  her 
years,  she  was  more  under  the  personal  control  of 
Carraccioli  than  ever.  The  favourite,  released  from 
his  fears  of  Louis,  now  dreaded  the  influence  of 
Alphonso  ;  the  brilliant  qualities  of  the  latter  had 
rendered  him  so  popular  with  the  people,  and  so  be- 
loved by  Joanna,  that  Carraccioli  beheld  himself 
eclipsed,  or  feared  to  be  so ;  he  contrived  to  fill  the 
queen's  mind  with  the  darkest  suspicions  of  her 
adopted  son  :  he  called  to  her  recollection  the  con- 
duct of  her  fathei;,  Charles  Durazzo,  towards  his 
benefactress  and  adopted  parent,  the  first  Joanna; 
the  example  was  too  recent  to  be  forgotten;  might 
not  Alphonso  remember  it  too,  and  profit  by  it  to 
her  ruin?  The  suggestion  once  admitted,  her  own 
imagination  and  the  artifices  of  Carraccioli  soon 
turned  suspicion  to  conviction.  Alphonso,  not  aware 
of  the  mistrust  and  aversion  which  were  gaining 
upon  the  mind  of  the  queen,  made  an  imprudent  dis 
play  of  his  power,  which  gave  some  colour  of  truth 


JOANNV     II.    OF    NAPLES.  107 

to  the  insinuations  of  his  enemy ;  and  Joanna  no 
longer  saw  in  him  a  son  and  a  defender,  but  an  un- 
grateful traitor,  who  only  watched  an  o{>portui)ity 
to  seize  on  her  kincrdom,  and  cany  her  off  to  a  diui- 
geon  in  Spain  or  Sicily.  In  an  agony  of  rage  and 
terror  she  shut  herself  up  in  the  Castel  Capuana, 
and  wrote  to  Sforza,  who  was  at  a  distance  with 
his  troops,  to  fly  to  her  succour;  he  obeyed  the 
summons  instantly,  and  Alphonso  and  his  Arra- 
gonese,  thus  converted  into  enemies  in  their  own 
despite,  were  obliged  to  stand  on  the  defensive. 
Several  battles  were  fought,  in  which  Sforza  had 
generally  the  advantage ;  but  Alphonso  took  and 
kept  possession  of  the  city  of  Naples,  and  made 
Carraccioli  his  prisoner ;  and  these  and  other  suc- 
cesses kept  the  issue  doubtful  for  some  time.  While 
the  fierce  struggle  continued,  Joanna  solemnly  re- 
voked her  adoption  of  Alphonso  ; — absolved  her  sub- 
jects from  the  allegiance  they  had  sworn  to  him  as 
the  heir  apparent  to  her  crown ;  and, — with  a  strange 
versatility!* — declared  Louis  of  Anjou  her  son  and 
heir  in  his  stead,  with  all  the  titles  and  privileges  she 
had  formerl}^  bestowed  on  Alphonso.  Thus  Louis 
found  himself,  by  the  most  unexpected  turn  of  for- 
tune, by  a  mere  feminine  caprice,  assured  of  that 
throne  for  which  himself,  his  father,  and  his  grand- 
father had  for  forty  years  striven  in  vain. 

This  famous  treaty,  which  was  followed  by  such 
tremendous  consequences  not  only  to  Naples  but  to 
all  Italy,!  was  signed  by  Joanna,  at  Nola,  June  2, 
1423,  two  years  after  Alphonso  had  been  called  over 
to  assist  her  against  Louis. 

Whatever  disasters  eventually  hung  on  this  mem- 
orable compact,  Joanna  had  no  reason  to  repent  it 
during  her  own  life.     Louis  had  not  all  the  brilliant 

*  "  Nella  instabilitA,  sola  fu  stabile,"  says  the  Italian  historian  of 
Joanna. 

t  It  led  to  the  invasion  of  Italy  by  Charles  VIII.,  which  in  its  turo 
jivolved  all  Europe  in  long  and  sanguinary  wars 


108  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS 

qnalitics  of  A  Iplionso,  but  neither  had  he  his  restless 
ambition.  Generous,  gentle,  frank,  and  brave,  he 
won  and  deserved  the  confidence  and  affection  of 
Joanna,  and  repaid  the  favours  and  honours  she  had 
conferred  upon  him  with  a  submission  and  devotion 
more  than  fihal ; — the  two  rivals  were  indeed  worthy 
of  each  other,  and  of  the  high  destiny  to  which  they 
vvere  called.  Neither  would  abandon  his  preten- 
sions ;  but  Alphonso  was  called  from  Italy  by  the 
affairs  of  Spain,  and  sailed  from  Naples  in  October, 
1423 ;  he  left  his  brother  Don  Pedro  to  continue  the 
war,  assisted  by  Caldora,  another  famous  Condot- 
tiere,  who,  in  the  true  spirit  of  his  military  trade, 
soon  afterward  changed  sides  and  went  over  to  Louis. 

Joanna  had  previously  redeemed  her  favourite 
Carraccioli,  by  exchanging  for  him  many  of  the  best 
generals  of  Alphonso,  made  prisoners  by  Sforza ; 
and  about  the  beginning  of  the  year  1424  we  find 
Joanna,  or  rather  Carraccioli,  again  setiled  tranquilly 
in  the  government  of  Naples.  It  was  not,  however, 
in  the  power  of  the  favourite  to  injure  Louis  of  An- 
jou  in  the  estimation  of  his  mistress.  The  prudent 
,  conduct  of  that  amiable  prince  gave  no  cause  of  um- 
brage, and  Carraccioli  was  obliged  to  remain  satis- 
fied with  removing  him  on  different  pretences  as  far 
from  the  court  as  possible. 

Shortly  afterward  the  tranquillity  of  Joanna'? 
government  was  threatened  by  that  turbulent  Brac- 
cio  who  had  been  alternately  her  defender  and  her 
enemy ;  and  having  lent  his  sword  and  skill  to  all 
the  powers  of  Italy  by  turns,  had  now  resolved  to 
win  an  independent  sovereignty  for  himself;  hehaa 
seized  on  Capua,  and  was  now  besieging  Aquila. 
Sforza,  his  old  friend  and  adversary,  was  sent  againsi 
thisjormidable  leader;  he  had  proceeded  northwards 
as  far  as  the  banks  of  the  river  Pescara,  when,  a^ 
he  was  riding  forwards  to  give  his  orders  to  cross 
the  river,  his  horse  plunged  with  him  i'jto  a  morass, 
and  horse  and  rider  disappeared  ;  thus,  after  hn\  ing 


JOANNA    II.    OF   NAPLES.  109 

stood  the  encounter  of  a  hundred  battles,  perished 
this  remarkable  man.  His  death  threw  the  court 
of  Naples  into  consternation,  and  Joanna  bitterly 
wept  the  loss  of  her  friend  and  defender;  all  his 
titles  and  offices  were  at  once  bestowed  on  his  son 
Francesco  Sforza,  except  the  staff  of  high-constable, 
which  was  given  to  Caldora,  Avith  orders  to  proceed 
to  Aquila :  Braccio  and  Caldora  met  before  the  gates 
of  that  city ;  the  former  was  completely  defeated, 
and  died  a  few  days  afterward  of  his  wounds. 

The  battle  of  Aquila  would  have  secured  to  Joanna 
the  tranquil  possession  of  her  throne,  if  the  traitor 
Carraccioli,  jealous  of  the  increasing  favour  of  Louis, 
had  not  again  made  overtures  to  Alphonso  ;  and  the 
interior  of  Joanna's  palace  exhibited  at  this  time  a 
scene  of  perfidy  and  depravity  from  which  the  mind 
recoils  in  disgust.  The  influence  of  Carraccioli 
over  the  queen  had  long  ceased  to  be  that  of  aflec- 
tion  or  confidence,  and  had  become  merely  a  weak- 
ness or  habit.  He  treated  her  with  the  utmost  in- 
solence and  arrogance  ;  it  is  even  related,  that  when 
she  hesitated  to  grant  his  unreasonable  demands,  he 
not  only  reviled  her  with  the  most  injurious  lan- 
guage, but  even  beat  this  miserable  and  doting  old 
woman  until  she  complied  with  his  wishes. 

But  latterly  Carraccioli  had  met  with  a  degree  of 
obstinacy  in  his  feeble  mistress  which  was  wholly 
unexpected,  and  appeared  to  him  incomprehensible ; 
this  energy  she  owed,  not  to  herself,  but  to  a  new 
confidant,  the  Duchess  of  Sessa,  a  woman  as 
wicked  as  Carraccioli,  and  excelling  him  infinitely  in 
all  the  talents  of  intrigue ;  she  was  his  deadly  but 
his  secret  enemy,  and  had  vowed  his  destruction. 

Carraccioli  bore  the  titles  of  Count  of  Avellino, 
and  Duke  of  Venosa  and  of  Melfi.  He  was  seneschal 
af  the  kingdom,  and  held  other  high  and  important 
offices  ;  his  riches  were  incalculable,  and  his  power 
to  all  appearance  boundless ;  but  not  satisfied  with 
all  this,  he  dared  to  demand  of  the  queen  the  inves- 


110  FEMALE    SO    EREIGNS. 

titure  of  tlie  principality  of  Salerno,  ^vhich  had 
generally  been  conferred  on  the  princes  of  the  blood 
royal.  Joanna,  acting  under  the  influence  of  the 
Duchess  of  Sessa,  absolutely  refused  this  request, 
and  even  went  so  far  as  to  upbraid  Carraccioli  with 
his  insatiate  avidity,  which  no  gifts  nor  favours  could 
satisfy.  The  favourite,  astonished  and  furious  at  a 
denial  so  unlocked  for,  burst  into  a  torrent  of  re- 
pioaches,  and  finding  these  availed  nothing,  from 
words  he  proceeded  to  outrages;  he  struck  her  a 
violent  blow  on  the  face,  which  made  the  blood  gush 
from  her  mouth,  and  then  turning  his  back  on  her, 
abruptly  quitted  the  apartment,  leaving  the  miserable 
queen  bathed  in  tears,  and  almost  suffocated  with 
impotent  rage.  In  this  condition  she  was  found  by 
the  Duchess  of  Sessa,  who  from  an  anteroom  had 
listened  to  the  dispute.  The  moment  was  favour- 
able to  her  views;  she  extorted  from  the  queen 
without  much  difficulty,  a  warrant  for  the  arrest  of 
Carraccioli ;  and,  resolving  not  to  trust  to  the  fee- 
bleness of  Joanna,  she  sent  a  party  of  her  own 
friends  and  dependants  to  execute  it — but  with  secret 
orders  not  to  arrest,  but  to  assassinate  Carraccioli. 

On  the  17th  of  August,  1432,  the  day  on  which  he 
had  celebrated  the  marriage  of  his  son  with  the 
daughter  of  Caldora,  Carraccioli  was  called  from  his 
chamber  about  midnight  under  pretence  of  a  mes- 
sage from  the  queen ;  and  the  warrant  being  shown 
to  him,  he  was  at  the  same  moment  felled  to  the 
ground,  and  his  brains  dashed  out  with  a  battle-axe. 
When  the  news  of  his  death  was  brought  to  Joanna 
she  wept  bitterly,  and  appeared  inconsolable  ;  but  all 
the  estates  of  Carraccioli  were  confiscated,  and  his 
murderers  remained  unsought  for  and  unpunished. 

During  the  next  three  years  the  Duchess  of  Sessa 
governed  almost  absolutely  in  the  queen's  name ; 
and  sometimes  intriguing  with  Alphonso,  sometimes 
with  Louis,  she  kept  the  rivalship  of  these  princes 
constantly  alive,  and  the  court  and  kingdom  in  per- 


JOANNA    II.     OF    NAPLES.  Ill 

plexity  and  confusion.  At  length,  in  1434,  Louis  of 
Anion  died  of  a  fever  at  Cosenza,  in  Calabria.  His 
fidelity  and  devotion  to  the  queen,  his  adopted 
mother,  had  never  been  shaken,  either  by  her^-a- 
prices  or  the  intrigues  and  provocations  of  her  un- 
worthy favourites;  and  Joanna  v^^as  perhaps  more 
truly  attached  to  him  than  she  had  ever  been  to  any 
human  being.  Her  grief  for  his  loss  was  so  deep 
and  so  sincere,  her  tears  so  incessant,  that  her  feeble 
frame  sank  under  the  weight  of  affliction,  and  within 
a  few  weeks  after  the  death  of  Louis  she  expired,  in 
the  65th  year  of  her  age,  after  an  unhappy,  disgrace- 
ful, and  unquiet  reign  of  tw^enty  years.  Her  people 
could  not  respect  her,  but  neither  could  they  hate 
her:  all  her  faults  and  follies  could  not  prevent 
her  from  being  loved  and  lamented.  Such  is  the  in- 
fluence which  a  mild  temper  and  sweet  and  gracfous 
manners  can  exercise  from  a  throne ;  but  had  she 
never  reigned,  what  disgrace  had  been  spared  to  her 
memory,  what  mischief  and  what  misery  to  her 
country  !  Her  few  good  qualities  were  buried  with 
her,  but  "  the  evil  that  she  did  lived  after  her  ;"  the 
arts  and  sciences,  which  had  flourished  under  Robert 
and  the  first  Joanna,  fled  in  affright  before  the  ruf- 
fian Ladislas,  and  turned  away  in  shame  from  the 
corrupt  court  of  his  sister.  She  had  neither  the  un- 
derstanding to  appreciate,  nor  the  power  to  protect 
them ;  the  only  accomplishment  in  which  she  ex- 
celled was  dancing.  Joanna,  as  a  last  proof  of  her 
affection  for  Louis  of  Anjou,  had  left  her  crown  to 
his  brother  and  heir,  Rene  of  Anjou ;  but  after  her 
death,  Alphonso  of  Arragon  invaded  Naples,  wrested 
the  crown  from  Rene,  and  transmitted  it  to  his  own 
posterity.  Rene  retired  to  Provence,  and  resided 
at  Aix,  his  hereditary  capital,  cultivating  poetry, 
painting,  and  music,  and  presiding  over  jousts  and 
tournaments.  This  "  bon  Roi  Rene,"  as  he  is  caUed 
in  the  old  histories  bore  during  his  life  the  titles  of 


1  12  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

Kin^  of  Naples,  Sicil)^  and  Jerusalem,  without  pos- 
sessing a  foot  of  land  in  any  of  those  countries.  He 
was  the  father  of  Margaret  of  Anjou,  the  heroic  wife 
Ql^our  Henry  the  Sixth. 


ISABELLA  OF  CASTILE. 

Should  we  seek  through  the  pages  of  history  for 
the  portrait  of  a  sovereign  such  as  the  Supreme 
Spirit  of  Good  might  indeed  own  for  his  vice- 
regent  heije  on  earth,  where  should  we  find  one 
more  blameless  and  beautiful  than  that  of  Isabella  1 
or  should  we  point  out  a  reign  distinguished  by  great 
events — events  of  such  magnitude  as  to  involve  in 
their  consequences,  not  particular  kings  and  nations, 
but  the  whole  universe,  and  future  ages  to  the  end 
of  time — where  could  we  find  such  a  reign  as  that 
of  Isabella,  who  added  a  new  world  to  her  heredi- 
tary kingdom  1  or  did  we  wish  to  prove  that  no  vir- 
tues, talents,  graces,  though  dignif^dng  and  adorning 
a  double  crown  and  a  treble  sceptre ;  nor  the  pos- 
session of  a  throne  fixed  in  the  hearts  of  her  peo- 
ple ;  nor  a  long  course  of  the  most  splendid  pros- 
perity, could  exempt  a  great  queen  from  the  burthen 
of  sorrow  which  is  the  lot  of  her  sex  and  of  hu- 
manity ;  where  could  we  find  an  instance  so  forcible 
as  in  the  history  of  Isabella? 

This  illustrious  woman  was  the  daughter  of  John 
the  Second,  King  of  Castile  and  Leon,  and  born  ir. 
1450,  four  years  before  the  death  of  her  father 
King  John,  after  a  long,  turbulent,  and  unjiappy 
reign,  died  at  Medina-del-Campo,  leaving  by  his  first 
wife,  Maria  of  Arragon,  a  son,  Don  Henry,  who 
succeeded  him ;  and  by  his  second  wife,  Isabella  of 
Portugal,  two  children  in  their  infancy,  Alphonsc 
and  Isabella. 


ISABELLA    OF    CASTILE.  113 

To  account  for  the  accession  of  Isabella  to  the 
throne  of  Castile, — an  event  which  during  the  first 
years  of  her  life  seemed  scarce  within  the  verge  of 
probability, — it  is  necessary  to  look  back  a  little. 

Spain,  in  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth  century,  was 
divided  into  four  separate  kingdoms,  Castile,  Arra- 
gon,  Navarre,  and  the  Moorish  kingdom  of  Grenada; 
the  political  institutions  of  Castile  and  Arragon 
were  nearly  alike,  and  though  the  form  of  govern- 
ment in  both  was  monarchical,  the  spirit  and  princi- 
ples were  almost  republican.  The  sovereign  was 
merely  the  chief  of  his  nobility ;  his  power  was  cir 
cumscribed  by  that  of  the  cortes,  or  parliament, 
composed  of  four  distinct  orders ; — the  nobles  of 
the  first  class,  or  grandees ;  the  nobles  of  the  second 
class ;  the  representatives  of  towns  and  cities,  and 
the  deputies  of  the  clergy.  By  law  the  cortes  was 
to  be  convoked  once  in  two  years,  and  once  assem- 
bled, could  not  be  dissolved  by  the  king  without  its 
own  consent ;  all  questions  of  peace  and  war,  the 
collection  of  the  revenues,  the  enacting  and  repeal- 
ing of  laws,  and  the  redressing  of  all  grievances  in 
the  state,  depended  on  this  assembly.  When  they 
pronounced  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  a  new  king,  it 
was  in  these  striking  terms :  "  We,  w^ho  are  each  of 
us  as  good  as  you,  and  altogether  more  powerful  than 
you,  promise  obedience  to  your  government,  if  you 
maintain  our  rights  and  liberties ;  but  not  other- 
wise." It  was  a  fundamental  article  in  the  consti- 
tution, that  if  the  king  should  violate  their  privi- 
leges, the  people  might  legally  disclaim  him  as  their 
sovereign,  and  elect  another  in  his  place — though 
that  other  should  be  a  heathen; — so  ran  the  law. 

This  state  of  things  had  its  disadvantages:  the 
proud,  warlike,  turbulent  barons  stood  between  the 
king  and  the  people ;  braved  the  former  and  oppressed 
the  latter,  and  by  their  mutual  factions,  and  con- 
tinual revolts  against  the  throne,  plunged  the  country 
into  continual  civil  dissensions  and  sanguhiarv  wars. 


114  FKMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

The  king  held  his  power  by  so  precarious  a  tenure, 
that  he  was  continually  in  arms  to  defend  it,  either 
abroad  or  at  home ;  from  the  time  when  Pedro  the 
Cruel  and  Henry  of  Transtamare  contended  for  the 
crown  in  1369,  to  the  reign  of  Ferdinand  and  Isa- 
bella, the  history  of  Spain  presents  a  confused  pic- 
ture of  wars,  popular  msurrections,  royal  treasons, 
and  domestic  tragedies. 

Yet,  as  in  Italy,when  the  early  Italian  republics  were 
contending  within  themselves  and  with  each  other, 
Spain,  thus  divided,  and  under  the  most  unsettled 
government,  was  flourishing  and  populous :  less 
powerful,  perhaps,  as  a  nation,  and  less  formidable 
to  neighbouring  states  than  it  afterward  became 
when  consolidated  into  one  vast  empire  under  a  des- 
potic monarch  ;  but  inhabited  by  a  brave,  free,  high- 
spirited,  industrious  people.  Conmierce  and  the  arts, 
philosophy  and  the  sciences,  had  flourished  under 
the  Moorish  princes,  and  were  extended  to  the  Span- 
iards :  they  had  a  beautiful  language,  and  rich  poet- 
ical literature.  "  We  have  been  accustomed,"  says 
Mr.  Lockhart,  in  his  beautiful  introduction  to  the 
Spanish  Ballads,  "  to  consider  the  modern  Spaniards 
as  the  most  bigoted,  and  enslaved,  and  ignorant  of 
Europeans ;  but  we  must  not  forget  that  the  Span- 
iards of  three  centuries  back  were  in  all  respects  a 
very  different  race  of  beings."  They  had  then  less 
bigotry,  were  possessed  of  more  civil  liberty,  a  more 
elegant  literature,  and  more  refinement  of  manners 
than  any  nation  of  Europe. 

Henry  the  Fourth  of  Castile,  the  eldest  brother 
of  Isabella,  was  a  weak  and  vicious  prince :  about 
ten  years  after  his  accession  his  misgovernment  led 
to  a  general  revolt,  and  the  chief  nobility,  with  Ca- 
rillo,  Archbishop  of  Toledo,  at  their  head,  resolved 
to  exercise  one  of  the  undeniable  privileges  of  their 
order,  and  degrade  their  unworthj'^  monarch  from 
his  throne.  They  brought  him  to  trial,  and  sen- 
tenced him,  in  effigy,  in  a  maimer  the  most  extra- 


ISABELLA    OF    CASTILE.  1  1 5 

ordinary.  On  the  5th  of  June,  1405,  a  solemn  as- 
sembly of  the  states  was  convened  at  Avila;  an  im- 
mense'amphitheatre  was  constructed  in  apJain  witli- 
oiit  the  city;  in  the  midst  was  placed  an  ill-carved 
wooden  ima^e  representing  the  king :  it  was  seated 
on  a  throne,  the  diadem  on  its  head,  the  sceptre  in 
its  hand,  and  the  sword  of  justice  girded  to  its  side. 
In  the  midst  of  a  solemn  and  breathless  silence,  the 
articles  of  accusation  and  condemnation  were  read 
aloud ;  at  the  conclusion  of  the  first  article,  the 
Archbij5hop  of  Toledo  advanced  to  the  statue  and 
lifted  the  royal  crown  from  its  head ;  upon  the  read- 
ing of  the  second  article,  the  Count  of  Placentia 
snatched  away  the  sword  of  justice ;  at  the  third 
article,  the  Count  of  Benavente  tore  the  sceptre 
from  its  hand ;  and  at  the  close  of  the  last  article, 
Don  Diego  de  Zuniga  hurled  the  image  from  the 
throne,  and  as  it  rolled  in  the  dust,  the  whole  as- 
sembly gave  a  shout  of  execration,— the  next  mo- 
ment the  young  Alphonso,  brother  to  Henry,  was 
raised  to  the  vacant  seat  of  power,  and  proclaimed 
king ;  he  was  then  about  twelve  years  old.  This  sub- 
lime farce,  or  pantomime,  or  whatever  else  it  may  be 
called,  had  not  the  effects  that  it  was  expected  to 
produce.  Henry  raised  a  large  army,  and  opposed 
his  brother's  party ;  but  a  negotiation  was  set  on 
foot,  and  the  Marquis  of  Villena,  w^ho  was  at  the 
head  of  the  malecontents,  proposed,  as  one  article  of 
reconciliation,  the  marriage  of  Isabella  with  his 
brother  Pacheco.  The  feeble  Henry  consented,  but 
Isabella,  then  about  fifteen,  resisted  a  union  which 
she  deemed  degrading  to  her  rank.  She  had  also  a 
personal  dislike  of  the  man  proposed  to  her,  and 
who,  in  spite  of  her  open  repugnance,  persisted  in 
pressing  this  marriage.  The  king,  urged  by  Villena, 
was  on  the  point  of  forcing  his  sister  to  the  altar, 
when  the  sudden  death  of  Pacheco  released  her 
from  this  hated  alliance ;  and  during  the  next  two 
or  three  years,  while  her  brothers,  Henry  and  Al- 


lHJ  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

phonso,  were  carrying  on  a  furious  civil  war,  she 
remained  in  retirement,  quietly  and  unconsciously 
preparing  herself  to  grace  the  crown  for  which  they 
were  conteiiding.  At  length  the  young  Alphonso, 
whose  spirit,  bravery,  and  opening  talents  offered 
the  fairest  promise  of  happiness  to  the  people,  died, 
at  the  age  of  fifteen,  and  the  party  of  nobles  op- 
posed to  Henry  immediately  resolved  to  place  Isa- 
bella at  their  head.  When  their  deputies  waited  on 
her  with  the  offer  of  a  crown,  she  replied,  that  "  it 
was  not  theirs  to  bestow ;  and  that  while  her  elder 
brother  Henry  existed,  nothing  should  induce  her  to 
assume  a  title  which  was  his  by  the  laws  of  God 
and  man ;"  at  the  same  time  she  claimed  her  right 
of  succession,  and  the  title  of  Princess  of  Astu- 
rias,  which  belonged  to  her  as  heiress  to  the  throne. 
The  chiefs  were  astonished  and  disconcerted  by  a 
reply  which  left  them  without  an  excuse  for  revolt. 
Having  in  vain  endeavoured  to  overcome  her  scru- 
ples, they  concluded  a  treaty  with  Henry  the  most 
humiliating  certainly  that  ever  was  extorted  from  a 
father  and  a  king.  By  this  treaty,  he  acknowledged 
his  reputed  daughter  Joanna  to  be  illegitimate ;  he 
consented  to  set  aside  her  claims  entirely,  and  de- 
clared Isabella  his  heiress  and  successor. 

At  such  a  price  did  this  despicable  monarch  pur- 
chase for  a  few  years  longer  the  empty  title  of  king, 
forfeiting,  at  the  same  time,  all  kinglj^  attributes,  as 
love,  obedience,  honour,  power :  being  a  husband, 
he  had  branded  his  own  name  with  ignominy ;  and 
being  a' father,  had  disgraced  and  disinherited  ins 
unoffending  child. 

The  next  important  object  of  the  nialecontent 
party  was  to  select,  from  among  many  aspirants,  a 
fit  consort  for  Isabella.  The  King  of  Portugal 
made  overtures  for  himself;  Louis  XI.  asked  her  in 
marriage  for  his  brother,  the  Due  de  Guienne  ;  Ed- 
ward IV.  of  England  offered  his  brother,  the  Duke 
of  Clarence,  who  was  afterward  drowned  in  a  butt 


ISABELLA    OF    CASTILE.  117 

3f  malmsey;  and  the  King  of  Arrag-on  asked  her 
riand  for  his  son  Don  Ferdinand.  The  latter  was  pre- 
ferred by  Isabella  herself,  as  well  as  by  all  her  party; 
but  as  it  was  the  interest  of  her  brother  Henry  to 
throw  every  possible  impediment  in  the  way  of  such 
a  marriage,  the  Archbishop  of  Toledo  carried  Isa- 
bella privately  to  Valladolid,  where  Ferdinand  met 
her  in  disguise,  and  the  articles  being  previously 
prepared,  and  on  principles  the  most  favourable 
to  Isabella  and  her  future  kingdom,  Ferdinand  sub- 
scribed to  them  at  once,  and  received  from  the  arch- 
bishop the  hand  of  the  young  princess. 

At  the  period  of  her  marriage  (in  1469),  Isabella 
had  just  entered  her  twentieth  year.  In  her  person 
"she  was  well  formed,  of  the  middle  size,  with 
great  dignity  and  gracefulness  of  deportment,  and  a 
mingled  gravity  and  sweetness  of  demeanour.  Her 
complexion  was  fair;  her  hair  auburn,  inclining  to 
red ;  her  eyes  were  of  a  clear  blue,  with  a  benign 
expression,  and  there  was  a  singular  modesty  in  her 
countenance,  gracing,  as  it  did,  a  wonderful  firm- 
ness of  purpose  and  earnestness  of  spirit."  *'  She 
exceeded  her  husband  in  beauty,  in  personal  dignity, 
in  acuteness  of  genius,  and  gi'andeur  of  soul."* 
She  combined  a  masculine  energy  and  firmness  of 
purpose  with  the  utmost  tenderness  of  heart,  and  a 
softness  of  temper  and  manner  truly  feminine.  Her 
self-command  was  not  allied  to  coldness,  nor  her 
prudence  to  dissimulation,  and  her  generous  and 
magnanimous  spirit  disdained  all  indirect  measures, 
and  all  the  Uttle  crooked  arts  of  policy.  While  all 
her  public  thoughts  and  acts  were  princely  and  au- 
gust,  her  private  habits  were  simple,  frugal,  and  un- 
ostentatious ;  without  being  learned,  she  w-as  fond 
of  literature,  and  being  possessed  of  a  fine  under- 
standing, had  cultivated  many  branches  of  know- 
ledge with  success.  She  encouraged  and  patronised 
the    arts,  and  was  the  soul  of  every  undertaknig 

*  Tjfc  and  Voyages  of  C'yiuinbus,  vol.  i   ji.  105 


118  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

vmicli  tended  to  promote  the  improvement  and  hap- 
piness of  lier  subjects.  Her  only  fault — most  par 
donable  in  her  sex,  her  situation,  and  the  age  in 
which  she  lived — was,  that  her  piety  tended  to  big- 
otr)^,  and  placed  her  too  much  at  the  disposal  of  her 
priestly  advisers.  This  led  her  into  some  errors, 
sad  to  think  of,  and  fraught  v.ith  evil  consequences 
to  her  people ;  they  are  a  subject  of  regret ;  they 
cannot  be  a  subject  of  reproach  to  this  glorious 
creature,  who,  in  an  age  of  superstition  and  igno- 
rance, was  sometimes  mistaken  and  misled,  but 
never  perverted. 

Ferdinand,  when  he  received  the  hand  of  Isabella, 
was  a  few  months  youfiger  than  his  bride.  "  He  was 
of  the  middle  stature,  well  proportioned,  hardy,  and 
active  from  athletic  exercise ;  his  carriage  was  free, 
erect,  and  majestic ;  he  had  an  ample  forehead,  and 
hair' of  a  bright  chestnut  colour;  his  eyes  were 
clear ;  his  complexion  rather  florid,  but  scorched  to 
a  manly  brown  by  the  toils  of  war ;  his  mouth  was 
handsome  and  gracious  in  its  expression;  his  voice 
sharp  ;  his  speech  quick  and  fluent."*  His  courage 
was  cool  and  undaunted,  not  impetuous ;  his  temper 
close  and  unyielding,  and  his  demeanour  grave ;  his 
ambition  was  boundless,  but  it  was  also  selfish, 
grasping,  and  unchecked  by  any  scruple  of  principle 
any  impulse  of  generosity ;  he  had  great  vigour  of 
mind  and  great  promptitude  in  action,  but  he  never 
knew  Vv'-hat  it  was  to  be  impelled  by  a  disinterested 
motive  ;  and  even  his  excessive  bigotry,  which  after- 
ward obtained  for  him  and  his  successors  the  title 
of  "  Most  Catholic,"  was  still  made  subservient  to 
his  selfish  views  and  his  insatiate  thirst  for  domin- 
ion. Yet,  however  repulsive  his  character  may 
appear  to  us  who  can  contemplate  at  one  glance 
the  events  of  his  long  reign,  and  see  his  subtle,  per- 
fidious policy  dissected  and  laid  bare  by  the  severe 
pen  of  history,  he  did  not  appear  thus  in  the  eyes  of 

*  Life  and  Vovages  of  Columbus. 


ISABELLA    OF    CASTILE.  119 

Isabella  when  they  met  at  Valladohd.  He  was  in 
the  bloom  of  youth,  handsome,  brave,  accomplishf.d ; 
the  vices  of  his  character  were  yet  undeveloped,  his 
best  qualities  alone  apparent.  Animated  by  the  wish 
to  please,  and  no  doubt  pleased  himself  to  find  in  the 
woman  whom  ambition  had  made  his  bride  all  the 
cliarms  and  excellences  that  could  engage  his  attach- 
ment, we  cannot  wonder  that  Ferdinand  at  this  time 
obtained  and  long  fixed  the  tenderness  and  respect 
of  his  wife,  whose  disposition  was  in  the  highest 
degree  confiding  and  aftectionate. 

Within  a  few  days  after  the  nuptial  ceremony 
Ferdinand  and  Isabella  were  obliged  to  separate  ;  the 
prince  retired  from  Valladolid  as  privately  as  he  had 
entered  it,  and  during  the  next  two  or  three  years 
it  appears  from  the  course  of  events  that  they  met 
seldom  and  at  long  intervals. 

When  Henry  found  that  this  dreaded  marriage  had 
been  solemnized  without  his  knowledge  or  consent, 
he  was  struck  at  once  with  rage  and  terror ;  he  re- 
voked the  treaty  he  had  made  in  Isabella's  favour, 
declared  his  daughter  Joanna  his  only  legal  heir, 
and  civil  war  again  distracted  and  desolated  the 
kingdom  for  more  than  three  years.  In  1474  Isa- 
bella proposed  an  interview  with  her  brother,  and 
they  met  at  Segovia ;  she  employed  on  this  occa- 
sion all  the  eloquence,  all  the  powers  of  persuasion 
she  possessed  as  a  woman,  and  all  the  ascendency 
which  her  superior  energy  and  spirit  gave  her  over 
the  feeble,  vacillating  mind  of  the  king,  to  procure  a 
reconciliation.  Wlien  Henry  appeared  inclined  to 
yield,  and  even  went  so  far  as  to  lead  her  palfrey  as 
she  rode  through  the  streets  of  Segovia,  Isabella 
sent  for  her  husband,  as  if  merely  to  pay  his  dutiful 
respects  to  his  brother-in-law.  They  appeared  in 
public  together,  entertained  each  other  with  seem- 
ing cordiality,  and  thus  by  her  address  Isabella  led 
on  her  brother  apparently  to  countenance  those  pre- 
tensions which  he  had  himself  denied.     At  the  end 


120  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

of  the  same  year  the  d^ath  of  Henry  opened  a  surer 
road  to  peace  :  he  died  of  a  fever  in  December,  1474. 
His  minister,  Villena,  had  died  a  short  time  before ; 
and  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  were  immediately,  and 
almost  without  opposition,  proclaimed  King  and 
Queen  of  Castile. 

The  Archbishop  of  Toledo,  who  had  been  so  in- 
strumental in  placing  Isabella  on  the  throne,  and  the 
chief  negotiator  of  her  marriage,  believed  himself 
now  at  the  summit  of  power,  and  expected  every 
thing  from  the  gratitude  or  the  weakness  of  the 
young  queen ;  he  was  very  much  surprised  to  find 
that  the  Cardinal  Mendoza  had  at  least  an  equal 
share  of  influence  and  favour,  and  that  Isabella  was 
not  of  a  character  to  leave  the  government  in  the 
hands  of  another.  He  was  heard  to  say,  tauntingly, 
"  that  he  would  soon  make  Isabella  lay  down  her 
sceptre,  and  take  up  the  distaff  again."  But  it  was 
not  so  easy ;  and  the  ambitious  archbishop,  quitting 
the  court  in  a  fit  of  jealousy  and  disgust,  threw  him- 
self into  the  party  of  Joanna,  whose  pretensions 
were  supported  by  the  young  Marquis  of  Villena  and 
other  nobles.  Alphonso,  King  of  Portugal,  also  en- 
gaged in  the  cause  of  Joanna,  upon  condition  that 
she  should  be  contracted  to  him,  although  he  w.as 
her  uncle  (her  mother's  brother),  and  more  than 
twice  her  age.  He  accordingly  invaded  Castile  with 
a  powerful  army,  and  Joanna  was  proclaimed  queen 
at  Placentia.  But  Ferdinand,  who  possessed  con- 
summate skill  as  a  general,  engaged  the  Portuguese 
at  Toro,  defeated  them,  and  obliged  Alphonso  to  re- 
tire to  his  own  kingdom.  The  disaffected  nobles 
submitted  one  after  another  to  the  power  of  Isabella, 
and  Castile  breathed  at  last  from  the  horrors  of 
civil  war.  As  for  the  poor  Princess  Joanna,  whose 
destiny  it  was  to  be.  disgraced  and  unfortunate 
through  the  vices  of  her  parents,  after  being  the  afli- 
anced  bride  of  several  princes,  who  all,  one  after 
another,  disclaimed  her  when  she  could  no  longer 


'  ISABELLA    OF    CASTILE.  121 

bring  a  crown  for  her  dowry,  she  at  last  sought 
refuge  in  a  convent,  where  she  took  the  veil  at  th-e 
age  of  twenty,  and  died  a  nun. 

Thus  Isabella  remained  without  a  competitor,  and 
was  acknowledged  as  Queen  of  Castile  and  Loon ; 
and  three  years  after  the  battle  of  Toro,  the  death 
of  his  father  raised  Ferdinand  to  the  throne  of  Arra- 
gon;  the  kingdoms  of  Castile  and  Arragon  were 
thenceforward  united  indissolubly,  though  still  inde- 
pendent of  each  other.  There  arose  at  first  some 
contest  relative  to  the  order  of  precedence.  Castile 
and  Leon  had  hitherto  been  allowed  the  precedence 
over  Arragon  in  all  political  transactions ;  but  Fer- 
dinand now  insisted  that  as  king  and  husband  his 
titles  should  precede  those  of  his  wife. 

It  was  a  very  delicate  point  of  conjugal  and  state 
etiquette,  and  Isabella  was  placed  in  a  difficult  situa- 
tion ;  she  conducted  herself,  however,  with  that  mix- 
ture of  gentleness,  prudence,  and  magnanimity  which 
distinguished  her  character.  She  acknowledged,  as 
a  wife,  the  supremacy  of  Ferdinand,  as  her  husband ; 
in  public  and  private  she  yielded  to  him  all  the  obe- 
dience, honour,  and  duty  he  could  require,  naming 
him  on  every  occasion  her  lord,  her  master,  her 
sovereign ;  but  she  would  not  concede  one  iota  of 
the  dignity  of  her  kingdom.  She  maintained,  that 
the  Queen  of  Castile  should  never  yield  the  prece- 
dence to  the  King  of  Arragon,  and  in  the  end  she 
overruled  all  opposition.  It  was  decided  that  in  all 
public  acts  promulgated  in  their  joint  names  the 
titles  of  Castile  and  Leon  should  precede  those  of 
Arragon  and  Sicily.  Isabella  managed  this  delicate 
affair  with  a  firmness  which  endeared  her  to  her  Cas- 
lilian  nobles,  who  were  haughtily  jealous  of  the 
honour  of  their  country ;  yet  she  upheld  her  rights 
with  so  much  sweetness  and  femmine  address  as  to 
gain  rather  than  lose  in  the  affections  of  her  hus- 
band ;  while  her  influence  in  his  councils  and  the 
resuect  of  his  ministers  were  evidently  increased  by 


122  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

the  resolution  she  had  shown  m  maintaining  what 
was  considered  a  point  of  national  honour. 

In  the  same  year  that  the  kingdoms  of  Castile  and 
Arragon  were  united  Queen  Isabella  lay-in  at  To- 
ledo, and  gave  birth  to  her  second  daughter,  the 
Infanta  Joanna,  afterward  the  mother  of  Charles  the 
Fifth. 

The  first  great  event  of  the  reign  of  the  two  sove- 
reigns was  the  war  of  Granada.  Hostility  against 
the  Moors  seems  to  have  been  the  hereditary  appa- 
nage of  the  crown  of  Castile ;  and  it  was  one  of  the 
principal  articles  in  Isabella's  marriage-treaty,  that 
Ferdinand  shouldlead  the  armies  of  the  queen  against 
the  infidels  as  soon  as  the  affairs  of  the  kingdom 
allowed  him  to  do  so.  Isabella  has  always  been 
represented  as  a  principal  adviser  and  instigator  of 
this  sanguinary  war,  and,  during  its  continuance,  the 
animating  soul  of  all  the  daring  enterprises  and  deeds 
of  arms  achieved  by  others  ;  and  though  the  Spanish 
historians  have  added  this  to  the  rest  of  her  merits, 
yet,  disguise  it  as  we  Vvdll,  there  is  something  revolt- 
ing to  female  nature  in  the  idea  of  a  woman  thus 
interested  and  engaged  in  carrying  on  a  war,  not  de- 
fensive, but  offensive,  and  almost  exterminating. 
We  ought,  therefore,  in  justice  to  Isabella,  to  look 
into  the  motives  by  which  she  was  impelled ;  to  con- 
sider the  situation  of  the  two  countries  at  the  time, 
the  opinions  and  spirit  of  the  age,  and  the  deep-seated 
religious  prejudices  on  both  sides,  which  gave  a 
tincture  of  fierce  zeal  to  this  great  and  terrible  con- 
test. It  was  bigotry  on  one  side  opposed  to  fanati- 
cism on  the  other.  The  Spaniards  fought  for  hon- 
our, dominion,  and  the  interests  of  the  clmrch ;  the 
Moors  fought  for  their  homes  and  hearths,  their  faith, 
their  country,  their  very  existence  as  a  nation. 

Isabella,  in  undertaking  this  war,  which  had  been 
in  a  measure  transmitted  to  her  with  her  crown,  was 
certainl}'-  swayed  b)'  motives  of  which  we  can  hardly 
estimate  the  full  force,  unless  we  transport  ourselves 


ISABELLA    OF    CASTILE.  123 

In  fancy  back  to  the  very  times  in  wliicJi  she  hved 
Tor  seven  huncired  years  the  existence  of  a  Moorish 
king-doni  in  the  sonth  of  Spain  had  been  hke  a  thorn 
in  the  side  of  Christendom.  Isabella  deemed  it  a 
reproach  that  her  frontiers  should  be  endang^ered, 
tier  power  defied,  by  a  people  occupying  a  slip  of 
land  between  her  kinfrdom  and  the  sea;  and  a  sense 
of  religion,  sincere  though  pitiably  mistaken,  made 
ner  regard  the  conversion  of  tlie  floors  as  a  neces- 
sary consequence  of  their  subjection,  and  a  war 
against  them,  even  to  extremity,  as  good  and  accept- 
able service  to  Heaven.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
policy  of  Ferdinand  in  conducting  this  war,  though 
cloaked  under  an  appearance  of  religious  zeal,  v/as 
far  more  deep  and  selfish ;  with  him  it  was  not  only 
the  desire  of  extending  his  dominions  and  increasing 
his  revenues,  but,  in  accordance  with  a  deep-laid 
plan,  to  aggrandize  the  crown  at  the  expense  of  the 
power  of  the  nobihty  and  the  liberties  of  the  people, 
— a  plan  which  he  pursued  through  his  v.hoie  reign 
with  the  most  profound  sagacity  and  the  most  un- 
wearied perseverance  ;  and  he  well  knew  that  a 
popular  war,  which  should  place  an  immense  army 
at  his  disposal,  and  exhaust  the  resources  and  the 
ardent  spirit  of  the  nobles  in  the  general  service, 
would  be  an  eflfectual  step  to  the  object  he  had  in 
view. 

The  kingdom  of  Granada  extended  along  the  south 
of  Spain  for  about  one  hundred  and  eighty  miles,  and 
between  the  mountains  and  the  sea  its  breadth  was 
about  seventy  miles;  ^'^et  this  narrow  space  was 
filled  with  populous  cities,  enriched  by  agriculture 
and  commerce,  defended  by  strong  fortresses,  and  in- 
habited by  a  wealthy,  warlike,  industrious,  and  pol- 
ished race  of  people.  Nearly  in  the  centre  of  the 
kingdom  stood  the  royal  city  of  Granada,  on  two 
lofty  hills,  the  one  crowned  by  the  glorious  palace 
of  the  Alhambra,  within  whose  splendid  courts  forty 
thousand  jiersons  might  have  been  ]odt?ed  and  entei- 


124  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

tained ;  the  other  by  the  citadel  of  Alcazaba.     The 
sides  of  these  hills  and  the  valley  between  them  were 
occupied  by  houses  and  palaces  to  the  number  of 
seventy  thousand,  and  Granada  alone  could  send 
forth  from  her  gates  twenty  thousand  fighting  men. 
Around  this  noble  city  stretched  the  Vega,  or  Plain 
of  Granada,  which  resembled  one  vast  and  beautiful 
garden  in  the  highest   state  of  cultivation;   there 
flourished  the  citron  and  the  orange,  the  pomegran- 
ate and  the  fig-tree ;  there  the  olive  poured  forth  its 
oil,  and  the  vine  its  purple  juice.    On  one  side,  a  range 
of  snowy  mountains  seemed  to  fence  it  from  its  hos- 
tile neighbours;  on  the  other,  the  blue  Mediterra- 
nean washed  its  shores,  and  poured  into  its  harbours 
the  treasures  of  Africa  and  the  Levant.     Nor  were 
the  inhabitants  of  this  terrestrial  Eden  immindful  or 
unworthy  of  its  glorious  loveliness.     They  believed 
themselves  peculiarly  favoured  by  Heaven  in  being 
placed  in  a  spot  of  earth  so  enchanting,  that  they 
fancied  the  celestial  Paradise  must  be  suspended  im- 
mediately over  it,  and  could  alone  exceed  it  in  de- 
lights.    Their  patriotism  had  in  it  something  roman- 
tic and  tender,  like  the  passion  of  a  lover  for  his 
mistress :  they  clung  to  their  beautifuJ  country  with 
*  a  yearning  affection ;  they  poured  their  blood  like 
water  in  its  defence;  they  celebrated  its  charms, 
and  lam.ented   its   desolation  in   those   sweet  and 
mournful  ballads  which  are  still  extant,  and  which 
can  yet  draw  tears  from  their  Christian  conquerors. 
Long  before  the  last  invasion  of  Ferdinand  and 
Isabella  the  Moorish  power  had  been  on  the  decline 
They  had  once  possessed  nearly  the  whole  of  the 
peninsula,  from  the  Strait  of  Gibraltar  to  the  Pyre- 
nees ;  but  had,  by  degrees,  been  driven  southward 
by  the  Christian  powers,  until  they  were  circum. 
scribed  within  the  boundaries  of  Granada.     Even 
this  they  had  held  for  some  time  as  tributary  to  theii 
enemies,  paying  annually  two  thousand  pinoles  of 
gold  and  sixteen  hundred  Cliristian  captives  or  Moor- 
ish  slaves  to  the  sovereigns  of  Castile. 


ISABELLA    OF    CASTILE.  125 

During  the  weak  government  of  Henry  the  Fourth, 
and  the  civil  wars  which  had  distracted  the  king- 
doms of  Castile  and  Arragon,  this  tribute  had  fallen 
into  disuse.  It  had  not  been  paid  for  several  years  ; 
and  while  the  Christian  monarchs  were  weakened 
by  internal  and  mutual  warfare,  the  Moors  had  been 
mcreasing  in  w  ealth  and  power,  and  had  even  ex- 
tended their  dominions  by  the  addition  of  several 
tracts  and  towns  lying  on  their  frontiers.  Their 
king,  Muley  Aben  Hassen,  was  a  tyrant  in  his  family, 
and  at  this  time  distracted  by  domestic  feuds ;  but 
he  was  a  man  of  strong  mind,  with  talents  both  for 
war  and  government ;  he  had  been  distinguished  in 
his  youth  for  personal  valour,  and  still  retained  in 
old  age  the  fiery  spirit  and  haughty  bearing  of  his 
earlier  years.  Such,  in  few  words,  was  the  state  of 
the  two  nations  when  the  war  began. 

The  first  step  taken  by  P'erdinand  and  Isabella 
was,  to  send  a  solemn  embassy  to  the  Moorish  king, 
requiring  the  payment  of  the  long  arrears  of  tribute 
due  to  the  monarchs  of  Castile.  Aben  Hassan  re- 
ceived the  ambassador  in  the  state-chamber  of  the 
Alhambra,  and  to  the  haughty  requisition  he  replied 
as  haughtily, — "  Tell  your  sovereigns  that  the  kings 
of  Granada  who  were  used  to  pay  tribute  in  money 
to  the  Castilian  crown  are  dead.  Our  mint  at  pres- 
ent coins  nothing  but  blades  of  cimeters  and  heads 
of  lances."  The  ambassador,  Don  Juan  de  Vera, 
probably  longed  to  hurl  back  this  proud  defiance  in 
the  teeth  of  the  infidels;  but  it  was  then  no  time  to 
answer  it  in  the  same  spirit.  The  contest  with  Por- 
tugal was  still  pending;  the  claims  of  Isabella  to 
her  throne  still  undecided;  it  was  not  till  1481  that 
Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  having  signed  a  treaty  with 
the  King  of  Portugal,  were  enabled  to  turn  their 
whole  attention  to  the  long-meditated,  long-deferred 
war  with  Granada. 

The  Moorish  king,  aware  of  their  intentions,  and 
of  the  vast  preparations  making  against  him,  was 


126  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

resolved  to  strike  the  first  blow.  He  attacked  Za- 
hara,  a  celebrated  fortress,  perched  on  the  summit 
of  a  mountain,  and  deemed  so  impregnable  from  its 
situation,  as  well  as  the  strength  of  its  defences, 
that  a  woman  of  severe  and  inaccessible  chastity 
was  proverbially  called  a  Zahareiia.  In  the  dead  of 
the  night,  Zahara  was  surprised  by  tlie  Moors,  the 
garrison  massacred,  and  the  rest  of  the  inhabitants 
driven  into  Cciptivity  and  sold  as  slaves.  Although 
this  inroad  had  only  anticipated  the  intentions  of 
Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  and  had  given  them  a  fair 
pretext  for  carrying  the  war  into  Granada,  they  af- 
fected the  strongest  indignation,  and  at  their  com- 
mand all  the  chivalry  of  Castile  flew  to  arms. 

Among  the  nobles  who  first  hfted  their  banners  in 
this  war,  and  afterward  became  celebratjed  for  their 
exploits,  four  were  especially  distinguished ;  Don 
Rodrigo  Ponce  de  Leon,  Marquis  of  Cadiz ;  Don 
Alonzo  de  Aguilar  (the  elder  brother  of  Gonsalvo  de 
Cordova) ;  the  Count  de  Cabra ;  and  the  Duke  of 
Medina  Sidonia.  Ail  these  were  in  fact  feudal  sove- 
reigns ;  they  were  often  engaged  in  petty  wars  with 
each  other  ;  and  there  was  not  one  of  them  who 
could  not  bring  a  small  army  of  his  own  retainers 
into  the  field.  The  Marquis  of  Cadiz  had  immense 
possessions  in  Andalusia,  including  even  populous 
cities  and  strong  fortresses  ;  his  near  neighbourhood 
to  the  Moors,  and  frequent  and  mutual  inroads,  had 
kept  up  a  constant  feeling  of  hostility  and  hatred 
between  them.  This  nobleman  was  the  first  to 
avenge  the  capture  of  Zahara ;  and  his  measures 
were  taken  with  equal  celerity  and  secrecy.  He  as- 
sembled his  friends  and  followers,  made  a  descent 
on  the  territories  of  the  enemv,  and  took  bv  storm 
the  strong  tovvn  of  Aihama,  situated  within  a  few 
leagues  of  the  Moorish  capital. 

When  ihe  news  of  the  capture  of  Aihama  was 
brought  to  Granada,  it  filled  the  whole  city  with  con- 
sternation ;  the  old  men  tore   their  garments,  and 


ISABELLA    OF    CASTILE.  127 

scattered  ashes  on  their  heads ;  the  women  rent 
their  hair  and  ran  about  weeping  and  waihng;  with 
their  children  in  their  arms,  they  forced  their  way 
into  the  presence  of  the  king,  denouncing  wo  on  liis 
head,  for  having  thus  brought  down  the  horrors  of 
war  on  their  happy  and  beautiful  country.  "  Ac- 
cursed be  the  day,"  they  exclaimed,  "  when  the  flame 
of  war  was  kindled  by  thee  in  our  land  I  May  the 
holy  Prophet  bear  witness  before  Allah,  that  we  and 
our  children  are  innocent  of  this  act !  Upon  thy 
head,  and  upon  the  heads  of  thy  posterity  to  the  end 
of  the  Avorld,  rest  the  sin  of  the  destruction  ot 
Zahara  !"* 

Aben  Hassan,  unmoved  by  these  feminine  lamen 
tations,  assembled  his  army  in  all  haste,  and  flew  to 
the  relief  of  Alhama ;  he  invested  it  with  three  thou- 
sand horse  and  fifty  thousand  foot,  and  Alhama 
would  assuredly  have  been  retaken  by  this  over- 
whelming force,  but  for  the  courage  and  magnanimity 
of  a  woman. 

When  news  was  brought  to  the  Marchioness  of 
Cadiz  that  her  valiant  husband  was  thus  hard  beset 
within  the  fortress  of  Alhama, — so  that  he  must 
needs  yield  or  perish,  unless  succour  should  be  af- 
forded him,  and  that  speedily, — she  sent  immediately 
to  the  Duke  of  Medina  Sidonia,  the  most  powerful 
of  the  neighbouring  chiefs,  requiring  of  him,  as  a 
Christian  knight  and  a  gentleman,  to  fly  to  the  as- 
sistance of  the  marquis.  Now,  between  the  family 
of  the  duke  and  that  of  the  Marquis  of  Cadiz  there 
was  an  hereditary  feud,  which  had  lasted  more  than 
a  century,  and  they  were  moreover  personal  ene- 
mies ;  yet,  in  that  fine  spirit  of  courtesy  and  gene- 
rosity which  mingled  with  the  ferocity  and  ignorance 


*  The  lament  of  the  Moors  on  thelossof  Allianaa  is  perpetu<ited  in  tlie 
little  Spanish  ballad  so  happily  and  so  laithfully  translated  by  Lord 
Byron — 

The  IMoorish  king  rides  up  and  down 
Through  Granada's  royal  to\vi»,"  &c- 


128  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS 

of  those  times,  the  aid  demanded  wath  such  mag 
naiiimous  confidence  by  the  high-hearted  wife  of  De 
Leon,  was  as  nobly  and  as  frankly  granted  by  the 
Duke  of  Medina  Sidonia.  Without  a  moment's  hesi- 
tation he  called  together  his  followers  and  his  friends, 
and  such  was  his  power  and  resources,  that  five 
thousand  horse  and  fifty  thousand  foot  assembled 
round  his  banner  at  Seville.  With  this  numerous 
and  splendid  army  he  hastened  to  the  relief  of  Al- 
hama  ere  it  should  be  overwhelmed  by  the  enemy. 
In  fact,  the  small  but  gallant  band  v/hich  still  held  its 
walls  against  the  fierce  attacks  of  the  Moor,  wei  e 
now  reduced  to  the  last  extremity,  and  must  in  a  few 
days  have  capitulated. 

Ferdinand  and  Isabella  were  at  Medini  del  Campo 
when  tidings  successively  arrived  of  the  capture  of 
Alhama,  of  the  terrible  situation  of  the  Marquis  of 
Cadiz,  and  the  generous  expedition  of  Medina  Sido- 
nia. The  king,  when  he  heard  of  this  vast  armament, 
and  the  glory  to  be  acquired  by  the  relief  of  Alhama, 
sent  forward  couriers  to  the  duke  with  orders  to 
await  his  coming,  that  he  might  himself  take  the 
command  of  the  forces ;  and  then,  with  a  few  at- 
tendants, he  spurred  towards  the  scene  of  action, 
leaving  the  queen  to  follow. 

But  the  Duke  of  Medina  Sidonia  was  not  inclined 
to  share  with  another — not  even  with  his  sovereign — 
the  glory  of  an  expedition  undertaken  from  such  mo- 
tives, and  at  his  own  care  and  cost :  moreover,  every 
hour  of  delay  was  of  the  utmost  consequence,  and 
threatened  the  safety  of  the  besieged  ;  instead,  there- 
fore, of  attending  to  the  commands  of  the  king,  or 
awaiting  his  arrival,  the  army  of  Medina  Sidonia 
pressed  forwards  to  Alhama.  On  the  approach  of 
the  duke,  Aben  Hassan,  who  had  already  lost  a  vast 
number  of  his  troops  through  the  gallant  defence  of 
the  besieged,  saw  that  all  farther  efforts  were  in 
vain.  Gnashing  his  teeth,  and  tearing  up  his  beard 
by  the  roots,  with  choler  and  disappointment,  he 


ISABELLA   OF    CASTILE.  129 

retired  to  his  city  of  Granada.  Meantime  the  Mar- 
quis of  Cadiz  and  hi-s  brave  and  generous  deliverer 
met  and  embraced  before  the  walls  of  Alhama;  the 
Duke  of  Medina  Sidonia  refused  for  himself  and  his 
followers  any  share  in  the  rich  spoils  of  the  city ; 
and  from  that  time  forth,  these  noble  cavahers,  lay- 
ing aside  their  hereditary  animosity,  became  firm  and 
faithful  friends. 

These  were  the  feats  which  distinguished  the 
opening  of  the  war ;  they  have  been  extracted  at 
some  length,  as  illustrating  the  spirit  and  manners 
of  the  age,  and  the  character  of  this  memorable  con- 
test ;  the  other  events  of  the  war,  except  as  far  as 
Isabella  was  personally  concerned,  must  be  passed 
over  more  rapidly.  She  had  followed  the  king  from 
Medina  del  Campo,  and  arrived  at  Cordova  just  as 
the  council  was  deliberating  what  was  to  be  done 
with  the  fortress  of  Alhama.  Many  were  of  opin- 
ion that  it  was  better  to  demolish  it  at  once  than  to 
maintain  it  with  so  much  danger  and  cost  in  the 
midst  of  the  enemy's  territory.  "  What !"  ex- 
claimed Isabella,  indignant  that  so  much  blood  and 
valour  should  have  been  expended  in  vain,  "  what, 
then,  shall  we  destroy  the  first  fruits  of  our  victories  ? 
shall  we  abandon  the  first  place  we  have  wrested 
from  the  Moors  ?  Never  let  us  suffer  such  an  idea 
to  occupy  our  minds  ;  it  would  give  new  courage  to 
the  enemy,  arguing  fear  or  feebleness  in  our  coun- 
cils. You  talk  of  the  toil  and  expense  of  maintain- 
ing Alhama  ; — did  we  doubt,  on  undertaking  this  war, 
that  it  was  to  be  a  war  of  infinite  cost,  labour,  and 
bloodshed  ?  and  shall  we  shrink  from  the  cost  the 
moment  a  victory  is  obtained,  and  the  question  is 
merely  to  guard  or  abandon  its  glorious  trophy? 
Let  us  hear  no  more  of  the  destruction  of  Alhama ; 
let  us  maintain  its  walls  sacred,  as  a  stronghold 
granted  us  by  Heaven  in  the  centre  of  this  hostile 
land,  and  let  our  only  consideration  be,  how  to  ex- 
tend  our   con([uest,   and 'capture   the   surrounding 


13U  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

cities."*  This  spirited  advice  was  applauded  by  all ; 
the  city  of  Alhama  was  strongly  garrisoned,  and 
maintained  thenceforv.^ard  in  despite  of  the  Moois. 

From  this  time  we  find  Isabella  present  at  every 
succeeding  campaign,  animating  her  husband  and 
his  generals  by  her  courage  and  undaunted  perseve- 
rance ;  providing  for  the  support  of  the  armies  by  her 
forethought  and  economy ;  comforting  them  under 
their  reverses  by  her  sweet  and  gracious  speeches, 
and  pious  confidence  in  Heaven ;  and  by  her  active 
humanity  and  her  benevolent  sympathy,  extended 
to  friend  and  foe,  softening,  as  far  as  possible,  the 
horrors  and  miseries  of  war.  Isabella  was  the  first 
who  instituted  regular  military  surgeons  to  attend 
the  movements  of  the  army,  and  be  at  hand  on  the 
field  of  battle.  These  surgeons  were  paid  out  of 
her  own  revenues ;  and  she  also  provided  six  spa- 
cious tents,  furnished  with  beds  and  all  things  re- 
quisite, for  the  sick  and  wounded,  which  were  called 
the  "  Queen's  Hospital." 

Thus,  to  the  compassionate  heart  of  a  Avoman,  di- 
rected by  energy  and  judgment,  the  civilized  world 
was  first  indebted  for  an  expedient  which  has  since 
saved  so  many  lives,  and  done  so  much  towards  al- 
leviating the  most  {"rightful  evils  of  war. 

It  were  long  to  tell  of  all  the  battles  and  encoun- 
ters, the  skirmishes  and  the  forays,  the  fierce  mutual 
inroads  for  massacre  or  plunder,  which  took  place 
before  the  crescent  was  finally  plucked  down,  and 
the  cross  reared  in  its  stead;  or  to  describe  the  val- 
orous sieges  and  obstinate  defences  of  the  fortresses 
of  Ronda,  Zalea,  INIoclin,  and  Baza ;  nor  how  often 
the  banks  of  the  Xenil  were  stained  with  blood, 
while  down  its  silver  current 

"  Chiefs  confused  in  mutual  slaughter. 
Moor  and  Christian,  rolled  along  !" 

The  Castilian  sovereigns,  great  as  were  their 
power  and  resources,  had'  to  endure  some   signal 

*  Chronicle  of  the  Conquest  of  Granada,  vol.  i.  p.  81. 


ISABELLA    OF    CASTILE.  131 

rejvprses ;  the  most  memorable  of  which  was  the  dis- 
graoefiil  repulse  of  Ferdinand  before  the  walls  of 
Loxa,  in  1482;  and  the  terrible  defeat  of  the  Chris- 
tians in  tlie  passes  of  the  mountains  of  Malaga, 
wliich  occurred  in  1483.  On  that  disastrous  day, 
which  is  still  remembered  in  the  songs  of  Andalusia, 
three  of  the  most  celebrated  commanders  of  Castile, 
with  the  pride  of  her  chivalry,  were  encountered  by 
a  determined  band  of  Moorish  peasantry ;  all  the 
brothers  of  the  Marquis  of  Cadiz  perished  at  his 
side ;  the  Master  of  Santiago  fled ;  the  royal  stan- 
dard-bearer was  taken  prisoner  ;  and  the  Marquis  of 
Cadiz,  and  his  friend  Don  Alonzo  de  Aguilar,  escaped 
with  difficulty,  and  wounded  almost  to  death.  In 
truth,  the  Moors  made  a  glorious  stand  for  their  na- 
tional honour  and  independence ;  and  had  it  not  been 
for  their  own  internal  divisions  and  distracted  coun- 
cils, which  gave  them  over  a  prey  to  their  con- 
querors, their  subjection,  which  cost  such  a  lavish 
expenditure  of  blood,  and  toil,  and  treasure,  had 
been  more  dearly  purchased, — perhaps  the  issue  had 
been  altogether  different. 

The  feuds  between  the  Zegris  and  the  Abencer- 
rages,  and  the  domestic  cruelties  of  Aben  Hassan, 
had  rendered  Granada  a  scene  of  tumult  and  horror, 
and  stained  the  halls  of  the  Alhambra  with  blood. 
Boabdil,  the  eldest  son  of  Aben  Hassan  (called  by 
the  Spanish  historians  "  el  Rey  Chiquito,"  or  "  el 
Chico,"  the  little  King),  had  rebelled  against  his 
father,  or  rather  had  been  forced  into  rebellion  by 
the  tyranny  of  the  latter;  the  old  monarch  was 
driven  from  the  city  of  Granada,  and  took  up  his 
residence  at  Malaga,  while  B6abdil  reigned  in  the 
Alhambra.  The  character  of  Boabdil  was  the  re- 
verse of  that  of  his  ferocious  sire ;  he  was  person- 
ally brave,  generous,  magnificent,  and  humane ;  but 
indolent,  vacillating  in  temper,  and  strongly  and  fa- 
tall}^  influenced  by  an  old  tradition  or  prophec)^, 
which  foretold  that  he  would  be  the  last  king  of  his 


132  FEMALE   SOVEREIGNS. 

race,  and  that  he  was  destined  to  witness  the  de- 
struction of  the  Moorish  power  in  Spain.  Roused, 
however,  by  the  remonstrances  of  his  heroic  mother, 
the  Sultana  Ayxa,  Boabdil  resolved  to  signalize  his 
reign  by  some  daring  exploit  against  the  Christians. 
He  assembled  a  gallant  army,  and  led  them  to  in- 
vade the  Castilian  territory.  In  the  plains  of  Lu- 
cena  he  was  met  by  the  Count  de  Cabra,  who,  after 
a  long-contested  and  sanguinary  battle,  defeated  and 
dispersed  his  troops.  Boabdil  himself,  distinguished 
above  the  rest,  not  less  by  his  daring  valour  than  by 
his  golden  armour  and  his  turban  that  blazed  with 
jewels,  was  taken  prisoner,  and  carried  by  the 
Count  de  Cabra  to  his  castle  of  Vaena. 

The  mother  of  Boabdil,  the  Sultana  Ayxa,  and 
his  young  and  beautiful  wife  Morayma,  had  daily 
watched  from  the  loftiest  tower  of  the  Alhambra  to 
see  his  banners  returning  iatriumph  through  the  gate 
of  Elvira;  a  few  cavaliers,  fugitives  from  the  battle 
of  Lucena,  and  covered  with  dust  and  blood,  came 
spurring  across  the  Vega,  with  the  news  of  his  de- 
feat and  capture — and  who  can  speak  the  sorrow  of 
the  wife  and  the  mother  1  Isabella  herself,  when 
the  tidings  of  this  great  victory  were  brought  to  her, 
wept  in  the  midst  of  her  exultation  for  the  fate  of 
the  Moorish  prince.  She  sent  him  a  message  full  of 
courtesy  and  kindness,  and  when  the  council  met  to 
consider  whether  it  would  be  advisable  to  deliver 
Boabdil  into  the  hands  of  his  cruel  father,  who  had 
offered  large  terms  to  get  him  into  his  power,  Isa- 
bella rejected  such  barbarous  policy  with  horror. 
By  her  advice  and  influence,  Boabdil  was  liberated 
and  restored  to  his  kingdom,  on  conditions  which, 
considering  all  the  circumstances,  might  be  ac- 
counted favourable  :  it  w  as  stipulated  that  he  should 
acknowledge  himself  the  vassal  of  the  Castilian 
crown ;  pay  an  annual  tribute,  and  release  from  sla- 
very four  hundred  Christiini  captives,  who  had  long 
languished  in  cliains ;  and  that  he  should  leave  his 


ISABELLA    OF    CASTILE.  133 

only  son  and  the  sons  of  several  nobles  of  his  family 
as  hostag-es  for  his  faith.  Having  "tubscribed  to 
these  conditions,  Boabdil  was  received  by  Ferdinand 
and  Isabella  at  Cordova,  embraced  as  a  friend,  and 
restored  to  his  kingdom,  with  gifts  and  princely 
honours. 

In  liberating  Boabdil,  the  politic  Ferdinand  was 
impelled  by  motives  far  different  from  those  which 
actuated  his  generous  queen.  He  wisely  calculated 
that  the  release  of  the  Moorish  prince  would  prove 
far  more  advantageous  than  his  detention,  by  pro- 
longing the  civil  discords  of  the  kingdom  of  Gra- 
nada, and  dividing  its  forces.  The  event  showed  he 
had  not  been  mistaken.  No  sooner  was  Boabdil  re- 
stored to  freedom  than  the  wrath  of  the  fiery  old 
king,  Aben  Hassan,  again  turned  upon  his  son,  and 
the  most  furious  contests  raged  between  the  two 
parties. 

This  was  the  miserable  and  distracted  state  of 
Granada,  while  King  Ferdinand  continued  to  push 
his  conquests,  taking  first  one  city  or  castle,  then 
another ;  ravaging  the  luxuriant  Vega,  and  carrying 
away  the  inhabitants  into  captivity ;  while  Boabdil, 
bound  by  the  treaty  into  which  he  had  entered,  wept 
to  behold  his  beautiful  country  desolated  with  fire 
and  sword,  and  dared  not  raise  his  arm  to  defend  it. 
In  the  midst  of  these  troubles,  old  Aben  Hassan,  be- 
coming blind  and  infirm,  v/as  deposed  by  his  brother 
Abdalla  el  Zagal,  who  proclaimed  himself  king;  and, 
denouncing  his  nephew  Boabdil  as  an  ally  of  the 
Christians  and  a  traitor  to  his  faith  and  country,  he 
prepared  to  carry  on  the  war  with  vigour.  The 
mihtary  skill  of  El  Zagal  was  equal  to  his  ferocity, 
and  the  Christians  found  in  him  a  determined  and 
formidable  opponent. 

The  fortress  of  Ronda,  in  the  Serrania,  which  had 
long  been  considered  impregnable  from  its  strength 
and  situation,  was  tviken  from  the  Moors  in  1485y 
after  a  long  and  fierce  resistance.     The  isolated  rock 

I.— K 


134  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

on  wliich  this  stronghold  was  perched,  hke  the 
aery  of  the  vulture,  was  hollowed  into  dungeons 
deep  and  dark,  in  which  were  a  vast  number  of  Chris- 
tian captives,  who  had  been  taken  in  the  Moorish 
forays.  It  is  recorded  that  among  them  were  sev- 
eral young  men  of  high  rank,  who  had  surrendered 
themselves  as  slaves  in  lieu  of  their  parents,  not 
being  able  to  pay  the  ransom  demanded  :  and  many 
had  pined  for  years  in  these  receptacles  of  misery. 
Being  released  from  their  fetters,  they  were  all  col- 
lected together,  and  sent  to  the  queen  at  Cordova. 
When  Isabella  beheld  them  she  melted  into  tears  ; 
she  ordered  them  to  be  provided  with  clothes  and 
money,  and  all  other  necessaries,  and  conveyed  to 
their  respective  homes ;  while  the  chains  they  had 
worn  were  solemnly  suspended  in  the  church  of  St. 
John,  at  Toledo,  in  sign  of  thanksgiving  to  Heaven. 
This  was  the  spirit  in  vvliich  Isabella  triumphed  in 
success : — an  instance  of  the  gentle  and  magnani- 
mous temper  with  wiiich  she  could  sustain  a  re- 
verse which  occurred  soon  afterward. 

A  short  time  after  the  siege  of  Ronda,  Isabella 
took  up  her  residence  at  Vaena,  a  strong  castle  on 
the  frontiers  of  Andalusia,  belonging  to  the  re- 
nowned and  valiant  Count  de  Cabra,  the  same  who 
had  won  the  battle  of  Lucena  and  taken  Boabdil 
prisoner.  The  influence  Vv^hich  Isabella  exercised 
over  her  warlike  nobles  v/as  not  merely  that  of  a 
queen,  but  that  of  a  beautiful  and  virtuous  woman, 
whose  praise  was  honour,  and  whose  smiles  were 
cheaply  purchased  by  their  blood.  The  Count  de 
Cabra,  while  he  entertained  his  royal  and  adored 
mistress  within  his  castle  walls,  burned  to  distinguish 
himself  by  some  doughty  deed  of  arms,  which  should 
win  him  grace  and  favour  in  her  eyes.  The  Moor 
El  Zagal  was  encamped  near  Bloclin ;  to  capture 
another  king,  to  bring  him  in  chains  to  the  feet  of 
his  mistress — what  a  glorious  exploit  for  a  Christian 
kniirht  and  a  devoted  cavalier !     The  ardent  count 


ISABELLA    OF    CASTILE.  135 

beheld  only  the  hoped  success,  he  overlooked  the 
dangers  of  the  undertaking.  With  a  liandful  of 
followers,  he  attacked  the  fierce  El  Zagal ;  was  de- 
feated ;  and  himself  and  his  retainers  driven  back 
upon  Vaena,  with  "  rout  and  confusion  following  at 
their  heels." 

Isabella  waited  the  issue  of  this  expedition  within 
the  walls  of  the  castle.     She  was  seated  in  the  bal- 
cony of  a  lofty  tower,  overlooking  the  vale  beneath, 
and  at  her  side  were  her  daughter  Isabella  and  her 
infant  son  Don  Juan.     Her  chief  minister  and  coun- 
sellor, the  venerable  Cardinal  Mendoza,  stood  near 
her ;  they  looked  along  the  mountain  road  which  led 
towards  Moclin,  and  beheld  couriers  spurring  their 
steeds  through  the  defiles  with  furious  haste,  and 
galloping  into  the  town ;  and  in  the  same  moment 
the  shrieks  and  wailings  Vvniich  rose  from  below  in- 
formed Isabella  of  the  nature  of  their  tidings  ere 
they  were  summoned  to  her  presence.     For  a  mo- 
ment her  tenderness  of  heart  prevailed  over  her 
courage  and  fortitude ;  the  loss  of  so  many  devoted 
friends,  the  defeat  of  one  of  her  bravest  knights, 
the  advantage  and  triumph  gained  by  the  enemy 
almost  in  her  presence,  and  the  heartrending  lam- 
entations of  those   who   had  lost   sons,  brothers,, 
lovers,  husbands,  in  this  disastrous  battle  almost* 
overwhelmed  her.     Eat  when  some  of  the  courtiers 
present  endeavoured  to  comfort  her  by  laying  the 
blame  on  the  rashness  of  De  Cabra,  and  would  have 
lessened  him  in  her  opinion,  she  was  roused  to  gen- 
erous indignation  :  "  The  enterprise,"  she  said,  "was 
rash,  but  not  more  rash  than  that  of  Lucena,  which 
had  been  crowned  with  success,  and  which  all  had 
applauded  as  the  height  of  heroism.     Had  the  Count 
de  Cabra  succeeded  in  capturing  the  uncle,  as  he  did 
the  nephew,  who  would  not  have  praised  him  to  the 
skies  ?" 

The  successful  enterprise  of  the  Christians  against 
Zalea   concluded   the   eventful  campaign   of  1485. 


133  FEMALE    SOVEREIG^NS. 

Isabella  retired  from  the  seat  of  war  to  Alcada  de 
Henares,  where,  in  the  month  of  December,  she 
gave  birth  to  her  third  daughter,  tne  Infanta  Cathe- 
rine of  Arragon,  afterward  the  wife  of  Henry  the 
Eighth  of  England. 

The  next  year,  1486,  was  one  of  the  most  memo- 
rable during  the  war.  Early  in  the  spring,  Isabella 
and  her  husband  repaired  to  Cordova,  and  a  gallant 
and  splendid  array  of  the  feudal  chieftains  of  Castile 
assembled  round  them.  That  ancient  city,  with  all 
the  fair  valley  along  the  banks  of  the  Guadalquiver, 
resounded  with  warlike  preparation ;  the  waving  of 
banners,  the  glancing  of  spears,  the  flashing  of 
armour,  the  braying  of  trumpets,  the  neighing  of 
steeds,  the  gorgeous  accoutrements  of  the  knights 
and  their  retainers,  must  have  formed  a  moving 
scene  of  surpassing  interest  and  magnificence. 
Tliere  was  the  brave  Marquis  of  Cadiz,  justly  styled 
the  mirror  of  Andalusian  chivalry.  When  the 
women  who  were  obliged  to  attend  Queen  Isabella 
to  the  wars,  and  who  possessed  not  her  noble  con- 
tempt of  danger,  beheld  the  Marquis  of  Cadiz,  they 
rejoiced,  and  felt  secure  under  the  protection  of  one 
so  renowned  for  his  courtesy  to  their  sex,  and  of 
whom  it  was  said,  that  no  injured  woman  had  ever 
'  applied  to  him  in  vain  for  redress.  There  was  the 
valiant  Count  de  Cabra,  who  had  captured  Boabdil; 
and  the  famous  Don  Alonzo  de  Aguilar,  renowned  for 
his  deeds  of  arms  in  iiistor}^  and  in  song ;  and  there 
was  his  brother  Gonsalvo  de  Cordova,  then  captain  of 
Isabella's  guards.  There  was  the  young  Duke  of 
Infantado,  with  his  five  hundred  followers,  all  glitter- 
ing in  silken  vests  and  scarfs,  and  armour  mlaid  with 
silver  and  gold;  and  the  Duke  of  Medina  Sidonia, 
and  the  Duke  of  Medina  Cell,  names  at  once  so 
harmonious  in  their  sound,  and  so  chivalrous  in 
their  associations,  that  they  dwell  upon  the  ear 
like  the  prolonged  note  of  a  silver  clarion.  Besides 
these,  were   many  wortliy   cavaliers   of  England, 


ISABELLA    OF    CASTILE.  137 

France,  and  Germany,  w^ho  were  induced  partly  by 
the  fame  of  this  lioly  expedition  (such  it  was  theu 
deemed),  partly  by  the  wish  to  distinguish  them 
selves  in  tlie  sight  of  a  beautiful  and  gracious  queen 
to  join  the  banners  of  Isabella  and  Ferdinand,  a( 
Cordova.  The  most  conspicuous  of  these  foreiga 
auxiUaries  was  Lord  Rivers  of  Eiigland,  a  neai 
relation  of  Elizabeth  of  York,  and  the  son  of  that 
accomplished  Lord  Rivers  who  was  beheaded  at  Pom- 
fret.  After  the  battle  of  Bosworth-iield,  he  joined 
the  camp  of  the  Catholic  sovereigns  with  three 
hundred  retainers,  and  astonished  the  Spaniards  by 
the  magnificence  of  his  appointments,  his  courtesy, 
his  valour,  and  the  ponderous  strength  and  deter- 
mined courage  of  his  men.  There  was  also  the 
accomplished  French  knight  Gaston  de  Leon  of 
Toulouse,  witli  a  band  of  followers  all  gallant  and 
gay,  "  all  plumed  like  ostriches  that  wing  the  wind," 
and  ready  alike  for  the  dance  or  the  melee — for 
lady's  bower  or  battle  field : — and  many  more. 

The  presence  of  Isabella  and  her  court  lent  to 
this  martial  pomp  an  added  grace,  dignity,  and  inter- 
est; she  was  surrounded  by  many  ladies  of  noble 
birth  and  distinguished  beauty,  the  wives  or  mothers 
or  sisters  of  the  brave  men  who  were  eiigaged  in 
the  war.  The  most  remarkable  were,  the  Infanta 
Isabella,  at  this  time  about  fourteen,  and  who,  as 
she  grew  in  years,  became  the  inseparable  compan- 
ion and  bosom  friend  of  her  mother ;  the  high-minded 
jMarchioness  of  Cadiz,  and  the  Marchioness  of  Moya, 
both  honoured  by  the  queen's  intimacy,  and  the  latter 
eminent  for  her  talents  as  well  as  her  virtues.  A 
number  of  ecclesiastics  of  high  rank  and  influence 
also  attended  on  Isabella.  The  grand  cardinal, 
Gonsalez  de  Mendoza,  was  always  at  her  side,  and 
was  at  this  time  and  during  his  life  her  chief  minis- 
ter and  adviser;  he  is  described  as  "a  man  of  a 
clear  understanding,  eloquent,  judicious,  and  of  great 
•quickness  and  capacity  in  business,  simple  yet  nice 

M2 


138  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

m  his  apparei,  lofty  and  venerable  in  his  deport- 
ment.'" He  was  an  eleg'ant  scholar,  but  of  course 
imbued  with  all  the  prejudices  of  his  age  and  calling; 
and  notwithstanding  his  clerical  profession,  he  had  a 
noble  band  of  warriors  in  his  pay.  There  were  also 
the  pope's  nuncio,  the  Prior  of  Prado,  the  warlike 
Bishop  of  Jaen,  and  many  others. 

Amid  this  assemblage  of  haughty  nobles  and 
fierce  soldiers,  men  who  knew  no  arts  but  those  of 
war,  and  courted  no  glory  which  was  not  sown  and 
reaped  in  blood, — amid  all  these  high-born  dames 
and  proud  and  stately  prelates, — moved  one  in  lowly 
garb  and  peaceful  guise,  overlooked,  unheeded,  when 
not  repulsed  with  scorn  by  the  great,  or  abandoned 
to  the  derision  of  the  vulgar,  yet  bearing  on  his 
serene  brow  the  stamp  of  greatness ; — one  before 
whose  enduring  and  universal  fame  the  transient 
glory  of  these  fighting  warriors  faded  away,  like 
tapers  in  the  blaze  of  a  noontide  sun  ;  and  compared 
with  whose  sublime  achievements  their  loftiest  deeds 
were  mere  infant's  play : — This  was  the  man- 

"  By  Heaven  design'd 
To  lift  the  veil  that  covered  half  mankind." — 

Columbus ! — he  first  appeared  as  a  suitor  in  the 
court  uf  Castile  in  the  spring  of  the  year  1486.  In 
the  midst  of  the  hurry  and  tumult  of  martial  prepa- 
ration, and  all  the  vicissitudes  and  pressing  exigences 
of  a  tremendous  and  expensive  war,  we  can  hardly 
wonder  if  his  magnificent  but  (as  they  then  appeared) 
extravagant  speculations  should  at  first  meet  with 
Httle  attention  or  encouragement.  During  the 
spring  and  autumn  of  this  3'ear  he  remained  at 
('ordova,  but  though  warmly  patronised  by  the  Car- 
dinal Mendozo,  he  could  not  obtain  an  audience  of 
the  sovereigns. 

Nor  was  Isabella  to  blame  in  this  :  it  appears  that 
while  Ferdinand  proceeded  to  lay  siege  to  Loxa,  the 


SABELLA    OF    CASTILE.  139 

queen  v/as  wholly  engrossed  by  the  care  of  supph^- 
ing  the  armies,  the  administration  of  the  revenues, 
and  all  the  multiplied  anxieties  of  foreign  and  do- 
mestic government,  vi'hich  in  the  absence  of  Ferdi- 
nand devolved  solely  upon  her.  She  gave  her  atten- 
tion unremittingly  to  these  complicated  affairs, 
sparing  neither  tmie  nor  fatigue  ;  and  conducted  all 
things  with  consummate  judgment,  as  well  as  the 
most  astonishing  order  and  activity.  It  is  not  sur- 
prising that  under  such  circumstances  Columbus, 
then  an  obscure  individual,  should  have  found  it  dif- 
ficult to  obtain  an  audience ;  or  that  his  splendid 
views,  as  yet  unrealized,  should  have  appeared; 
amid  the  immediate  cares  and  interests  and  dangers 
pressing  around  her,  somewhat  remote  and  visionary, 
and  fail  to  seize  on  her  instant  attention. 

In  the  mean  time  the  war  proceeded ;  Loxa  was 
taken  after  an  obstinate  defence,  and  a  terrible 
slaughter  of  the  miserable  inhabitants.  Boabdil, 
"  the  Unlucky,"  was  retaken  at  Loxa,  but  released 
again,  on  renewing  his  oath  of  vassalage,  to  foment 
the  troubles  of  his  wretched  country.* 

After  the  capture  of  Loxa,  Ferdinand  WTote  to 
Isabella  requesting  her  presence  in  his  camp,  that 
he  might  consult  with  her  on  the  treatment  of  Boab- 
dil, and  the  administration  of  their  new  dominions. 

In  ready  obedience  to  her  husband's  wish,  Isabella 
took  her  departure  from  the  city  of  Cordova  on  the 
12th  of  June.  She  was  accompanied  by  her  favour- 
ite daughter  the  Princess  Isabella,  and  a  numerous 
train  of  noble  ladies  and  vahant  cavaliers,  with 
courtiers,  statesmen,  and  prelates  of  rank.     On  the 

■■^^  In  one  of  the  suburbs  of  Loxa,  a  poor  weaver  was  at  his  work 
during  the  hottest  of  the  assault :  his  wife  urged  him  to  fly :  "  Why 
should  I  fly,"  said  the  Moor,  "to  be  rescued  for  hunger  and  slavery? 
1  tell  you,  wife,  I  will  abide  here ;  for  belter  is  it  to  die  quickly  by  the 
steel  than  to  perish  piecemeal  in  chains  and  dungeons."  Having  said 
this,  he  coolly  resumed  his  work,  and  was  slain  at  his  loom  by  the 
furious  assailants. — Vide  Conquest  of  Granada.  This  reminds  us  of 
Archimedes,  only  that  the  Moorish  weaver  was  the  greater  philosopher 
cf  the  two,  and  did  not  stick  to  liis  loom  through  mere  absence  of  mind. 


140  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

frontiers  of  Granada  she  was  met  by  the  Marquis 
of  Cadiz,  who,  with  a  gallant  company  of  knights 
and  retainers,  had  come  to  escort  her  through  the 
lately-conquered  territories  to  the  camp,  wliich  was 
now  removed  to  Moelin,  another  formidable  place 
of  strength,  which  Ferdinand  had  invested  with  his 
whole  army.  On  her  joiirney  thither  Isabella  made 
a  short  stay  at  Loxa,  where  she  and  the  young  In- 
fanta visited  the  sick  and  w^ounded  soldiers,  distrib- 
uting among  them  money  and  raiment  and  medical 
aid,  according  to  their  need.  Thence  Isabella  pro- 
ceeded through  the  mountain  roads  towards  Moelin, 
still  respectfully  escorted  by  the  brave  Marquis  of 
Cadiz,  who  attended  at  her  bridle-rein,  and  Avas 
treated  by  her  with  all  the  distinction  due  to  so  val- 
iant and  courteous  a  knight.  When  she  approached 
the  camp,  the  young  Duke  del  Infantado,  with  all 
his  retainers  in  their  usual  gorgeous  array,  met  her 
at  the  distance  of  several  miles ;  and  when  they 
came  in  view  of  the  tents,  the  king  rode  forth  to 
receive  her,  at  the  head  of  the  grandees,  and  attended 
by  all  the  chivalry  of  his  army,  glittering  in  their 
coats  of  mail  and  embroidered  vests,  with  waving 
plumes,  and  standards  and  pennons  floating  in  the 
summer  air.  "The  queen,"  says  the  Chronicle 
"  was  mounted  on  a  chestnut  mule,  in  a  saddle-chair 
of  state ;  the  housings  were  of  fine  crimson  cloth 
embroidered  with  gold;  the  reins  and  head-piece 
were  of  satin,  curiously  wrought  with  needlework. 
The  queen  wore  a  skirt  of  velvet  over  petticoats  of 
brocade ;  a  scarlet  mantle  hung  from  her  shoulders, 
and  her  hat  was  of  black  velvet  embroidered  with 
gold."  The  dress  of  the  young  infanta  was  all  of 
black,  and  a  black  mantilla,  ornamented  in  the  Moor- 
ish fashion,  hung  on  her  shoulders  :  the  ladies  of 
.he  court,  all  richly  dre-ssed,  followed  on  forty 
nudes.  The  meeting  between  Ferdinand  and  Isa- 
bella on  this  occasion  was  arranged  with  true  Span- 
ish gravity  and  etiquette.     Laiing  their  conjugal 


ISABELLA    OF    CASTILE.  14 1 

character  aside  for  the  present,  they  approached 
each  other  as  sovereigns;  each  ahghting-  at  some 
paces'  distance,  made  three  profound  reverences 
before  they  embraced.  The  queen,  it  is  remarked, 
took  off  her  embroidered  hat,  and  remained  with 
her  head  uncovered,  except  by  a  silken  net  which 
confined  her  hair.  Ferdinand  then  kissed  her  re- 
spectfully on  the  cheek,  and,  turning  to  his  daughter, 
he  took  her  in  his  arms,  gave  her  a  father's  blessing, 
and  kissed  her  on  the  lips.  They  then  remounted,  and 
the  splendid  procession  moved  onwards  to  the  camp, 
the  Earl  of  Rivers  riding  next  to  the  king  and  queen. 

Isabella  and  her  daughter  were  present  during  the 
whole  of  the  siege  of  Moclin,  which  was  reduced 
with  great  difficulty,  and  principally  through  the 
skill  of  the  Lombard  engineers.  It  appears  that  in 
the  use  of  all  firearms  the  Spaniards  greatly  ex- 
celled the  Moors ;  and  in  the  sciences  of  fortifica- 
tion and  gunnery,  which  were  still  in  their  infancy, 
the  Italians  at  this  time  exceeded  all  Europe.  Moc- 
lin fell  before  the  Spanish  batteries,  and  the  inhabit- 
ants capitulated;  and  Isabella  and  her  husband  en- 
tered the  city  in  solemn  state  with  their  band  of 
warriors.  They  were  preceded  by  the  standard  of 
the  cross,  and  a  company  of  priests,  with  the  choir 
of  the  royal  chapel,  chanting  the  Te  Deum  :  as  they 
moved  thus  in  solemn  procession  through  the  smok- 
ing and  deserted  streets  of  the  fallen  city,  they  sud- 
denly heard  a  number  of  voices,  as  if  from  under 
the  earth,  responding  to  the  chorus  of  priests,  and 
singing  aloud,  "  Blessed  is  he  that  cometh  in  the 
name  of  the  Lord."  There  was  a  pause  of  aston 
Ishment,  and  it  was  discovered  that  these  were  the 
voices  of  certain  Christian  captives  who  had  been 
confined  in  the  subterraneous  dungeons  of  the  for- 
tress. Isabella,  overcome  with  a  variety  of  emo- 
tions, wept,  and  commanded  that  these  captives 
should  be  instantly  brought  befoie  her;  .she  then 

L— L 


142  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

ordered  ihem  to  be  clothed  and  comforted,  and  con- 
veyed in  safety  to  their  several  homes. 

The  queen  remained  for  some  weeks  at  Moclin, 
healing-,  as  far  as  she  was  able,  the  calamities  of 
war;  introducing  regular  government  and  good 
order  into  her  new  dominions ;  converting  mosques 
into  churches  and  convents,  and  founding  colleges 
for  the  instruction  and  conversion  of  the  Moors.  It 
should  not  be  omitted,  that  with  all  her  zeal  for  reli- 
gion, Isabella  uniformly  opposed  herself  to  all  mea- 
suies  of  persecution  or  severity ;  the  oppression 
and  cruelty  afterward  exercised  towards  the  con- 
quered Moors  did  not  originate  with  her;  but,  on 
the  contrary,  were  most  abhorrent  to  her  benign 
temper  and  her  natural  sense  of  justice.  She  was 
ever  their  advocate  and  protectress,  even  while  she 
lent  all  the  energies  of  her  mind  to  the  prosecution 
of  the  national  and  religious  war  she  waged  against 
them.  Hence,  she  was  hardly  more  beloved  and 
revered  by  her  Catholic  than  by  her  Moslem  subjecis. 

Ferdinand,  meantime,  marched  forward  and  rav- 
aged the  Vega,  even  to  the  very  gates  of  Granada. 
He  then  returned  to  join  the  queen  at  Moclin;  and, 
at  the  conclusion  of  this  triumphant  campaign,  the 
two  sovereigns  retired  to  the  city  of  Cordova,  leav- 
ing young  Frederick  de  Toledo  (already  distin- 
guished for  his  military  talents,  and  afterward  the 
Duke  of  Alva  of  terrible  memory),  to  command 
upon  the  frontiers  of  their  new  conquests. 

From  Cordova  Isabella  removed  to  Salamanca, 
where  the  plans  and  proposals  of  Columbus  were 
for  the  first  time  laid  before  a  council  appointed  to 
consider  them.  When  we  read  in  history  of  the 
absurd  reasoning,  the  narrow-minded  objections,  the 
superstitious  scruples,  which  grave  statesmen  and 
learned  doctors  opposed  to  the  philosophical  argu- 
ments and  enthusiastic  eloquence  of  Columbus,  we 
cannot  wonder  that  Isabella  herself  should  doubt 
end  hesitate.     Her  venerable  minister,  the  Cardinal 


ISABELLA    OF    CASTILE.  143 

Meiidoza,  favoured  Columbus,  but  her  confessor, 
Ferdinand  de  Talavera,  was  decidedly  inimical  to  all 
plans  of  discovery,  and  by  his  private  influence  over 
the  queen,  he  was  enabled  to  throw  a  thousand  im- 
pediments in  the  way  of  the  great  navigator,  and 
defer  his  access  to  Isabella. 

Tlie  winter  passed  away  before  the  council  at 
Salamanca  came  to  any  decision.  Early  in  the 
spring  of  1487,  King  Ferdinand  took  the  field  with 
20,000  cavalry  and  50,000  foot ;  while  Isabella  re- 
mained at  Cordova,  to  preside  as  usual  over  the 
affairs  of  government,  and  make  arrangements  for 
conveying  to  this  vast  army  the  necessary  and  reg- 
ular supplies.  It  was  the  design  of  Ferdinand  to 
attack  Malaga,  the  principal  seaport  of  Granada, 
and  the  second  cit}^  of  the  kingdom,  and  thus  cut 
off  any  succours  that  might  be  expected  from  the 
Mahometan  states  of  Africa.  It  was  necessary  to 
reduce  several  strong  places  before  the  army  could 
invest  the  city  of  Malaga,  and  among  others,  Velez 
Malaga.  Before  this  last-mentioned  town,  the  king 
exhibited  a  trait  of  personal  valour  which  had  nearly 
proved  fatal  to  him.  The  camp  being  endangered 
by  a  sudden  attack  of  the  Moors,  he  rushed  into  the 
battle,  armed  only  with  his  lance ;  his  equery  was 
slain  at  his  side,  and  Ferdinand  instantly  transfixed 
with  his  spear  the  Moor  who  had  killed  his  attend- 
ant. He  was  thus  left  without  a  weapon,  surrounded 
by  the  enemy,  and  had  not  the  Marquis  of  Cadiz 
and  others  of  his  nobles  galloped  to  his  rescue,  he 
must  have  perished.  On  his  return  to  the  camp  in 
safety,  he  made  a  vow  to  the  Virgin,  never  again  to 
enter  the  battle  without  his  sword  girded  to  his  side. 

When  Isabella  was  informed  of  this  incident,  she 
was  greatly  agitated :  the  gallantry  and  danger  of 
her  husband  appear  to  have  left  a  strong  imipression 
on  her  imagination,  for  long  afterward  she  granted 
to  the  inhabitants  of  Velez  jMalaga,  as  the  arms  of 
their  city,  an  escutcheon,  representing  the  figure  of 


144  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

the  king  on  horseback,  with  the  equery  dead  at  his 
feet,  and  the  Moors  flying  before  him. 

In  the  beginning  of  May,  Ferdinand  undertook 
the  memorable  siege  of  Malaga,  which  lasted  more 
than  three  months.  The  city  was  strongly  fortified, 
and,  contrary  to  the  wishes  of  the  opulent  and 
peaceful  merchants,  was  most  obstinately  defended 
by  Hamet  el  Zegri,  a  valiant  old  IMoor,  who  had  tlie 
command  of  the  garrison.  To  him  the  horriJDle  suf- 
ferings inflicted  on  the  inhabitants  by  a  protracted 
siege  appeared  quite  unworthy  the  consideration  of 
a  soldier,  whose  duty  it  was  to  defend  the  fortress 
entrusted  to  him.  The  difficnlties,  dangers,  and  de- 
lays which  attended  this  siege,  so  dispirited  the 
Spaniards,  that  many  thought  of  abandoning  it  alto- 
gether. A  report  that  such  was  the  intention  of  the 
sovereigns  was  circulated  among  the  Christians  and 
the  Moors,  and  gave  fresh  courage  to  the  latter. 
To  disprove  it  in  the  sight  of  both  nations.  Queen 
Isabella,  attended  by  her  daughter,  and  the  whole 
retinue  of  her  court,  arrived  to  take  up  her  residence 
in  the  camp. 

Isabella  was  received  by  her  army  with  shouts  of 
exultation.  Immediately  on  her  arrival,  she  gave  a 
proof  of  the  benignity  of  her  disposition,  by  en- 
treating that  the  attacks  on  the  city  might  be  dis- 
continued, and  offers  of  peace  sent  in  her  name  to 
the  besieged :  the  firing  accordingly  ceased  for  that 
day,  and  gladly  would  the  inhabitants  of  ^Malaga 
have  accepted  her  overtures ;  but  the  fierce  Hamet 
el  Zegri  disdainfully  rejected  them,  and  even  threat- 
ened with  death  the  first  person  who  should  pro- 
pose to  capitulate. 

The  Marquis  of  Cadiz  invited  tlie  queen  and  the 
infanta  to  a  banquet  in  his  tent,  which  crowned  with 
its  floating  banners  and  silken  draperies  the  summit 
of  a  lofty  hill,  opposite  to  the  citadel  of  Malaga. 
While  he  was  pointing  out  to  Isabella  the  various 
arrangements  of  the  roval  camp,  which,  filled  with 


ISABELLA    OF    CASTILE.  145 

warlike  tumult  the  valley  at  their  feet :  while  he  was 
explaining  the  operations  of  the  siege,  the  strong 
defences  of  the  city,  and  the  effects  of  the  tremen- 
dous ordnance,  he  suddenly  beheld  from  one  of  the 
enemy's  towers  his  own  family  banner  hung  out  in 
scorn  and  defiance  ;  it  was  the  same  which  had  been 
captured  by  the  Moors,  in  the  terrible  defeat  among 
the  mountains,  m  1483.  Whatever  the  marquis 
might  have  felt  at  this  insult  offered  to  him  in  the 
presence  of  his  queen  and  the  noblest  ladies  of  her 
court,  he  suppressed  his  indignation ;  while  his  kins- 
men and  followers  breathed  deep  vows  of  revenge, 
he  alone  maintained  a  grave  silence,  and  seemed 
unmindful  of  the  insolent  taunt ;  but  within  a  fev/ 
days  afterward,  the  tower  from  which  his  banner  had 
been  displayed  in  mockery,  lay  a  heap  of  ruins. 

While  Isabella  remained  in  the  camp  before  Ma- 
laga, her  life,  which  her  virtues  had  rendered  dear 
and  valuable  to  her  people,  had  nearly  been  brought 
to  a  tragical  close.  A  Moorish  fanatic  named  Agerbi, 
who  had  among  his  own  people  the  reputation  of  a 
santon,  or  holy  prophet,  undertook  to  deliver  his 
country  from  its  enemies.  He  found  means  to  in- 
troduce himself  into  the  Christian  camp,  where  his 
wild  and  mysterious  appearance  excited  equal  aston- 
ishment and  curiosity ;  he  pretended  to  the  gift  of 
prophecy,  and  required  to  be  conducted  to  the  king 
and  queen,  to  whom  he  promised  to  reveal  the  event 
of  the  siege  and  other  secrets  of  importance.  By 
command  of  the  Marquis  of  Cadiz,  he  was  conducted 
to  the  royal  tents.  It  happened,  fortunately,  that 
the  king  was  then  asleep  ;  the  queen,  though  impa- 
tient and  curious  to  behold  this  extraordinary  prophet, 
of  whom  her  attendants  had  made  such  a  wonderful 
report,  yet,  with  her  usual  delicacy  towards  her 
husband,  refused  to  receive  the  Moor,  or  listen  to 
his  communications,  until  the  king  should  wake; 
he  was  therefore  conducted  into  a  tent  in  which  the 
Marchioness  of  Moya  and  Don  Alvaro  were  playing 

Vol.  I.— N 


116  FiiMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

at  chess;  a  few  attendants  were  standing  round. 
From  the  dress  and  high  bearing  of  these  personages, 
and  the  magnificent  decorations  of  the  pavihon,  the 
Moorish  santon  beUeved  himself  in  presence  of  the 
king  and  queen,  and  while  they  Avere  gazing  on  him 
with  wonder  and  curiosity,  he  drew  a  cimeter  from 
beneath  his  robe,  struck  Don  Alvaro  to  the  earth, 
and  turning  on  the  marchioness,  aimed  a  blow  at  her 
liead,  which  had  been  fatal,  if  the  point  of  his  weapon 
had  not  caught  in  the  hangings  of  the  tent,  and  thus 
arrested  its  force,  so  that  it  lighted  harmless  on  the 
golden  ornaments  in  her  hair.  This  passed  like 
lightning;  in  the  next  moment  the  assassin  was 
flung  to  the  earth  by  a  friar  and  the  queen's  trea- 
surer, and  instantly  massacred  by  the  guards,  who 
rushed  in  upon  hearing  the  deadly  struggle.  The 
soldiers,  in  a  paroxysm  of  indignation,  seized  on  his 
body,  and  threw  it  into  the  city  from  one  of  their 
military  engines.  Don  Alvaro  recovered  from  his 
wound,  and  an  additional  guard,  composed  of  twelve 
hundred  cavaliers  of  rank,  was  stationed  round  the 
royal  tents.  Isabella,  though  struck  at  first  with 
consternation  and  horror  at  this  treacherous  attempt 
on  her  life,  was  still  anxious  to  spare  the  miserable 
inhabitants  of  Malaga.  By  her  advice,  terms  of 
capitulation  were  again  offered  to  the  city,  but  in 
vain ;  Hamet  el  Zegri,  encouraged  by  a  certain 
Moorish  necromancer  whom  he  entertained  in  his 
household,  and  who  fed  him  with  false  hopes  and  pre- 
dictions, again  rejected  her  overtures  with  contempt. 
It  appears,  that  among  those  who  joined  the  court 
of  Isabella  before  Malaga  was  Columbus,  whose  ex- 
penses on  this  occasion  were  defrayed  from  the 
royal  treasury.*  But  amid  the  clash  and  din  of 
arms,  and  the  dangers  and  anxieties  of  the  siege, — 
the  murderous  sallies  and  fierce  assaults,  only  re- 
lieved now  and  then  by  solemn  religious  festivals, 

''  Vide  Life  and  Vovnges  of  Columbris. 


ISAllKLLA    OF    CASTIM:.  1  i? 

or  by  the  princely  banquets  given  by  the  various 
commanders  at  their  respective  quarters,  there  was 
no  time  to  bestow  on  the  consideration  of  plans  for 
the  discovery  of  distant  worlds  :  the  issue  of  a  lon^ 
and  terrible  war  hung  upon  the  event  of  an  hour,  and 
the  present  crisis  engrossed  the  thoughts  of  all. 

In  the  mean  time  the  siege  continued;  famine 
raged  within  the  city,  and  the  people,  seized  with 
despair,  were  no  longer  restrained  by  the  threats  or 
the  power  of  Hamet  el  Zegri;  they  pursued  him 
with  curses  and  lamentations  as  he  rode  through 
the  streets ;  mothers  threw  down  their  starving  in- 
fants before  his  horses.  "  Better,"  they  exclaimed, 
"  that  thou  shouldst  trample  them  to  death  at  once, 
than  that  we  should  behold  them  perish  by  inches, 
and  listen  to  their  famished  cries."  Hamet,  unable 
to  stem  the  tide  of  popular  fury,  withdrew  into  the 
fortress  of  the  citadel,  called  the  Gibraifaro,  and 
abandoned  the  town  and  its  inhabitants  to  their  fate ; 
they  immediately  surrendered  at  discretion,  and 
were  forced  to  ransom  themselves  from  slavery  on 
hard  and  cruel  terms,  w^iich  very  few  were  able  to 
fulfil.  The  fortress  yielded  soon  afterward ;  Hamet 
el  Zegri  was  thrown  into  a  dungeon,  and  the  garrison 
sold  into  slavery.  Sixteen  hundred  Christian  cap- 
tives were  found  in  the  city  of  Malaga ;  they  were 
sent  to  Queen  Isabella,  as  th*^  most  acceptable 
trophy  of  her  success ;  and  yet  the  same  Isabella, 
who  received  these  poor  people  with  compassionate 
tenderness, — who  took  off  their  fetters  with  her 
)\vn  hands,  relieved  their  wants,  and  restored  them 
to  their  families  and  homes ; — the  same  Isabella 
sent  fifty  beautiful  Moorish  girls  as  a  present  to  the 
Queen  of  Naples;  thirty  to  the  Queen  of  Portugal; 
and  others  she  reserved  for  herself  and  for  the  fa- 
vourite ladies  of  her  household.  It  also  appears 
that,  eventually,  all  the  inhabitants  of  Malaga,  with 
few  exceptions,  to  the  number  of  sixteen  thousand 
men,  women,  and  children,  were  stripped  of  their 


148  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

possessions  by  the  heartless  policy  of  Ferdinanci, 
and  condemned  to  slavery.  We  may  infer  from  the 
general  conduct  and  character  of  Isabella,  that  she 
either  could  not  prevent  this  cruel  retaliation,  or 
was  impressed  by  her  religious  directors  with  the 
idea  that  it  vv^as  right  and  just.  As  for  the  measures 
afterward  taken  for  the  conversion  of  this  unhappy 
people,  she  was  uniformly  opposed  to  them.  She  long 
resisted  the  establishment  of  the  Inquisition;  but, 
as  the  historian  of  Columbus  observes,  "her  scruples, 
unfortunately  for  Spain,  were  slowly  vanquished  by 
the  churchmen  about  her.'^  When  that  execrable 
tribunal  commenced  its  persecutions  against  the 
^loorish  and  Jewish  converts,  her  merciful  inter- 
position frequently  checked  its  cruelties,  and  ex- 
posed  her  to  the  censure  of  the  priesthood.  When^, 
contrary  to  her  own  sweet  nature  and  upright  judg- 
ment, she  jdelded  to  those  in  whose  wisdom  she 
confided,  she  erred  in  her  humility  and  her  ignorance ; 
and  the  effort,  the  sacrifice  it  cost  her  gentle  dis- 
position, converted  her  error  almost  into  a  virtue. 
The  sin  and  the  shame  rest  upon  those  who  fromt 
interested  motives,  or  in  perverse  blindness,  de- 
ceived and  misled  her !  It  was  far  difi"erent  with  her 
most  Catholic  husband,  who  made  his  bigotry  the  ex- 
cuse for  his  ambition,  and  his  persecuting  zeal  the 
cloak  of  his  detestable  rapacity. 

In  the  following  year  (1488)  Ferdinand  led  his 
army  to  attack  the  Moors  on  the  eastern  side  of 
Granada  :  this  campaign  was  short,  and  by  no  means 
successful,  owing  to  the  military  prowess'  of  El 
Zagal,  wlio  ruled  in  these  provinces.  Isabella  spent 
the  ensuing  winter  at  Saragossa  and  Valladolid,  oc- 
cupied in  the  domestic  aflairs  of  her  kingdom,  and 
in  the  education  of  her  children.  Voltaire  asserts, 
that  Isabella  and  her  husband  "neither  loved  nor 
hated  each  other ;  and  that  they  lived  together  less 
as  husband  and  wafe  than  as  allied  and  independent 
sovereigns-,"  but  on  a  closer  examination  of  tluMT 


ISABELLA    OF    CASTILE.  149 

history,  this  does  not  appear  to  be  true.  Isabella's 
marriage  had  been  a  union  of  inchnation  as  welJ  as 
of  poUcy.  In  her  youth  she  had  both  loved  and  ad- 
mired her  husband ;  as  his  cold  and  selfish  character 
disclosed  itself,  she  may  possibly  have  felt  her 
esteem  and  affection  decline  ;  and  it  is  renmrked  by 
Voltaire  himself,  that  she  deeply  suffered  as  a  woman 
and  a  w^ife,  not  only  from  her  husband's  coldness, 
but  from  his  frequent  infidelities.  Yet,  if  they  had 
private  disagreements,  they  were  never  betrayed  to 
the  prying  eyes  of  the  courtiers  ;  in  this  respect  she 
maintained  her  own  dignity  and  his  with  admirable 
self-command.  She  found  consolation  for  her  do- 
mestic sorrows  in  the  society  of  her  eldest  daugh/.er, 
the  Infanta  Isabella,  and  in  the  excellent  qualities  of 
her  son  Don  Juan.  Her  second  daughter,  Joanna, 
had  been  from  her  infancy  subject  to  fits,  which  in 
the  course  of  years  disordered  her  intellect;  her 
youngest  daughter,  Catherine,  who  has  obtained  a 
mournful  celebrity  in  history  as  Catherine  of  Arra- 
gon,  was  about  this  time  demanded  in  marriage  by 
Henry  VII.  of  England  for  his  son  Prince  Arthur. 
This  infant  marriage  sealed  a  commercial  and  politi- 
cal treaty  between  the  tvv^o  countries,  which  re- 
mained unbroken  till  the  time  of  Philip  II.  and 
Queen  Elizabeth. 

The  year  1489  was  rendered  memorable  by  the 
siege  of  Baza,  a  fortress  situated  on  the  eastern  con- 
fines of  Granada.  On  the  reduction  of  this  place 
depended  the  event  of  the  war,  and  the  king  invested 
it  with  an  army  of  twenty-five  thousand  men. 
While  he  was  before  the  place,  displaying  his  mili- 
tary skill,  and  leading  on  his  gallant  chivalry,  a  far 
more  difficult  task  devolved  on  Queen  Isabella ;  she 
had  to  attend  to  the  affairs  of  government,  and  at  the 
same  time  to  provide  all  things  for  supplying  a  large 
army,  enclosed  in  the  enemy's  country,.and  to  which 
there  v/as  no  access  but  over  difficult  mount;uii 
roads   and  dangerous   passes :    the   incredible  ex- 

N2 


150  riClALE    SOVERJ-IGNS. 

penses  and  difficulties  she  met  and  overcame,  and 
the  expedients  to  which  she  had  recourse,  give  us 
the  most  extraordhiary  idea  of  her  talents,  her  ac- 
tivity, and  her  mascuUne  energy  of  mind.  The  un- 
dertaking was  in  fact  so  hazardous,  that  those  who 
usually  contracted  for  the  supply  of  the  army  now 
refused  to  do  it  on  any  terms.  Isabella  was  there- 
fore left  to  her  own  resources :  she  constructed 
roads  through  the  rugged  mountainous  frontier  for 
the  conveyance  of  the  convoys  ;  she  hired  fourteen 
thousand  mules,  which  were  incessantly  employed 
in  the  transport  of  grain  and  other  necessaries.  To 
supply  the  almost  incredible  expense,  she  had  not 
recourse  to  any  oppressive  measures  of  taxation; 
many  prelates  and  convents  opened  to  her  their 
treasures ;  she  pledged  her  own  plate  ;  and  it  is  re- 
lated that  many  wealthy  individuals  readily  lent  her 
large  sums  of  money  on  no  other  security  than  her 
word  :  such  was  the  character  she  bore  among  her 
subjects,  such  their  confidence  in  her  faith  and  truth. 
"  And  thus,"  says  the  Chronicle,  "  through  the  won- 
derful activity,  judgment,  and  enterprise  of  this  he- 
roic and  magnanimous  woman,  a  great  host,  en- 
camped in  the  heart  of  a  warlike  country,  accessible 
only  over  mountain  roads,  was  maintained  in  con- 
tinual abundance  ;"  and  to  her  the  ultimate  success 
of  the  undertaking  may  be  attributed.  After  the 
siege  had  lasted  nearly  seven  months  at  an  immense 
cost  of  treasure  and  waste  of  life,  Isabella  came  with 
her  daughter  and  all  her  retinue,  and  took  up  her 
residence  in  the  camp.  When  from  the  towers  of 
Baza  the  Moors  beheld  the  queen  and  all  her  splen- 
did train  emerging  from  the  defiles,  and  descending 
the  mountain  ro^s  in  a  long  and  gorgeous  array, 
they  beat  their  breasts,  and  exclaimed,  "  Now  is  the 
fate  of  Baza  decided !"  yet  such  was  the  admiration 
and  reverence  which  this  extraordinary  woman 
commanded  even  among  her  enemies,  that  not  a  gun 
was  fired,  not  a  shaft  discharged,  nor  the  slightest 


ISABHLLA    OF    CASTILE.  lol 

interruption  offered  to  her  progress.  On  her  arrival 
there  was  at  ouce  a  cessation  of  allhostihties,  as  if  by 
mutual  though  tacit  consent,  and  shortly  after  Baza 
surrendered  on  honourable  terms ;  the  chief  of  the 
Moorish  garrison,  Prince  Cidi  Yahye,  was  so  cap- 
tivated by  the  winning  grace  and  courtesy  with 
which  Isabella  received  him,  that  he  vowed  never 
more  to  draw^  his  sword  against  her ;  the  queen  ac- 
cepted him  as  her  knight,  and  rephed  to  his  animated 
expressions  of  devotion  with  much  sweetness,  say- 
ing, "  that  now  he  was  no  longer  opposed  to  her, 
she  considered  the  war  of  Granada  as  already  ter- 
minated." 

Baza  surrendered  in  Dec.  1489,  and  v/as  sooa 
followed  by  the  submission  of  the  haughty  Moor 
El  Zagal,  who,  driven  from  place  to  place,  and  unable 
any  longer  to  contend  against  the  Christian  forces, 
yielded  up  that  part  of  the  kingdom  of  Granada 
which  yet  acknowledged  him  as  sovereign,  and  did 
homage  to  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  as  their  vassal. 

King  Boabdil  yet  ruled  in  Granada,  and  the  treaty 
of  his  friendship  betv/een  him  and  the  Catholic  king 
had  been  duly  observed  as  long  as  it  suited  the 
policy  of  Ferdinand,  but  no  sooner  had  El  Zagal 
surrendered  than  Boabdil  was  called  upon  to  yield 
up  his  capital,  and  receive  in  heu  of  it  the  revenues 
of  certain  Moorish  towns.  Boabdil  might  possibly 
have  accepted  these  terms,  but  the  citizens  of  Gra- 
nada and  the  warriors  who  had  assembled  within 
it  rose  up  against  him,  and  under  the  command  of 
Muza,  a  noble  and  valiant  Moor,  they  returned  a 
haughty  defiance  to  Ferdinand,  declaring  that  they 
would  perish  beneath  the  walls  of  their  glorious 
city,  ere  they  would  surrender  the  seat  of  Moorish 
power  into  the  hands  of  unbelievers.  Ferdinand 
and  Isabella  deferred  for  a  time  the  completion  of 
their  conquest,  and  retired  after  this  campaign  to 
the  Gity  of  Seville.  In  the  spring  of  1490,  the  In- 
fanta  Isabella   was  united  to   Don   Alphonso,  Vat. 


152  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

Prince  of  Portugal;  and  for  some  weeks  after  the 
celebration  of  these  nuptials,  the  court  at  Seville 
presented  a  continual  so^ne  of  splendour  and  revelry, 
banquets,  feasts,  and  tournaments.  In  the  midst  of 
these  external  rejoicings,  the  heart  of  Isabella  bled 
over  her  approaching  separation  from  her  beloved 
daughter,  and  the  young  princess  herself  wore  a 
look  of  settled  melancholy,  which  seemed  prophetic 
of  the  woes  of  her  short-lived  marriage. 

It  was  just  at  this  crisis  that  Columbus  renewed 
his  solicitations,  and  pressed  for  a  decided  answer 
to  his  propositions ;  he  was  referred  as  before  to  a 
council  or  board  of  inquiry,  and  the  final  report  of 
this  committee  of  "  scientific  men"  is  too  edifying 
to  be  omitted  here.  It  was  their  opinion,  "  that  the 
scheme  proposed  was  vain  and  impossible  ;  and  that 
it  did  not  become  such  great  princes  to  engage  in  an 
enterprise  of  tlie  kind,  on  such  weak  grounds  as  had 
been  advanced."* 

Notwithstanding  this  unfavourable  report,  and  the 
ill  offices  of  Fernando  de  Talavera,  the  sovereigns 
did  not  wholly  dismiss  Columbus,  but  still  held  out 
a  hope  that  at  a  future  period,  and  after  the  conclu- 
sion of  the  war,  they  would  probably  renew  the 
treaty  with  him.  But  Columbus  had  been  wearied 
and  disgiisted  by  his  long  attendance  on  the  courl, 
and  he  would  no  longer  listen  to  these  evasive  and 
indefinite  promises ;  he  quitted  Seville  in  deep  dis- 
appointment and  indignation,  at  the  very  time  that 
Ferdinand  and  Isabella  were  assembling  the  army 
destined  for  the  siege  of  Granada,  little  suspecting, 
that  while  they  were  devoting  all  their  energies  and 
expending  all  their  resources  in  the  conquest  of  a 
petty  kingdom,  they  were  blindly  rejecting  the  ac- 
quisition of  a  world. 

6n  the  11th  of  April,  1491,  King  Ferdinand  took 
the  field  for  this  last  campaign ;  his  army  consisted 

*  Vide  Life  and  Vovages  ot  Columbus. 


ISABELLA    OF    CASTILE.  153 

ol  forty  thousand  infantry  and  ten  thousand  cavalry ; 
he  was  accompanied  by  his  son,  Don  Juan,  then  a 
fine  youth  of  sixteen,  and  by  all  the  chivalry  of, 
Castile  and  Arragon,  including  the  Marquis  of  Cadiz, 
and  the  Marquis  of  Villena;  the  Counts  de  Cabre, 
de  Tendilla,  Cifuentes,  and  Urena,  Don  Alonzo  de 
Aguilar,  and  Gonsalvo  de  Cordova,  all  names  re- 
nowned in  the  annals  of  Spain.  Isabella  with  her 
family  and  retinue  remained  for  a  time  at  Alcala  la 
Real,  a  strong  place  on  the  frontiers ;  but  they  soon 
afterward  quitted  this  fortress,  and  took  up  their 
residence  in  the  camp  before  Granada.  The  Moors, 
excited  by  the  enthusiasm  and  example  of  Muza, 
their  heroic  commander,  defended  their  city  with 
courageous  obstinacy,  and  the  environs  of  Granada 
were  the  scene  of  many  romantic  exploits  and  re- 
nowned deeds  of  arms.  One  or  two  of  these  ad- 
ventures, in  which  Isabella  was  personally  in- 
terested, ought  to  find  a  plague  here. 

It  happened  on  a  certain  day,  when  the  siege  had 
already  lasted  about  two  months,  that  a  fierce 
Moorish  chief,  named  El  Tarfe,  made  a  sally  from 
the  walls,  with  a  band  of  followers.  He  galloped 
almost  alone  up  to  the  Christian  camp,  leaped  the 
intrenchments,  flung  his  lance  into  the  midst  of  the 
roj'^al  tents,  and  then  turning  his  horse,  sprung  again 
over  the  barriers,  and  galloped  back  to  the  city  with 
a  speed  which  left  his  pursuers  far  behind.  When 
the  tumult  of  surprise  had  ceased,  the  lance  of  El 
Tarfe  was  found  quivering  in  the  earth,  and  affixed 
to  it  a  label,  purporting  that  it  was  intended  for  the 
Queen  Isabella. 

Such  an  audacious  insult  offered  to  their  adored 
and  sovereign  lady  filled  the  v/hole  Christian  host 
with  astonishment  and  indignation.  A  Castilian 
knight,  named  Perez  de  Pulgar,  deeply  swore  to 
retort  this  insolent  bravado  on  the  enemy :  accom- 
panied by  a  few  valiant  friends,  he  forced  his  way 
through  one  of  the  gates  of  Granada,  galloped  up 


154  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

to  the  principal  mosque,  and  there,  throwing  himself 
from  his  horse,  he  knelt  down,  and  solemnly  took 
possession  of  it,  in  the  name  of  the  Blessed  Virgin. 
Then  taking  a  tablet,  on  which  were  inscribed  the 
words  AVE  MARIA,  he  nailed  it  to  the  portal  of  the 
mosque  with  his  dagger,  remounted  his  horse,  and 
safely  regained  the  camp,  slaying  or  overturning  all 
his  opponents. 

On  the  day  w^hich  succeeded  this  daring  exploit. 
Queen  Isabella  and  her  daughters  expressed  a  wish 
to  have  a  nearer  view  of  the  city,  and  of  the  glorious 
palace  of  the  Alhambra,  than  they  could  obtain  from 
the  camp.  The  noble  Marquis  of  Cadiz  immediately- 
prepared  to  gratify  this  natural  but  perilous  curi- 
osity ;  assembling  a  brilliant  and  numerous  escort, 
composed  of  chosen  w-arriors,  he  conducted  Isabella 
and  her  retinue  to  a  rising  ground  nearer  the  city, 
whence  they  might  view  to  advantage  the  towers 
and  lieights  of  the  Alhambra. 

Wiien  the  Moors  beheld  this  splendid  and  w^arlike 
array  approaching  their  city,  they  sent  forth  a  body 
of  their  bravest  youth,  who  challenged  the  Christians 
to  the  fight.  But  Isabella,  unwilling  that  her  curi- 
osity should  cost  the  life  of  one  human  being,  abso- 
lutely forbade  the  combat ;  and  her  knights  obeyed, 
but  sorely  against  their  will.  All  at  once,  the  fierce 
and  insolent  El  Tarfe,  armed  at  all  points,  was  seen 
to  advance ;  he  slowly  paraded  close  to  the  Chris- 
tian ranks,  dragging  at  his  horse's  tail  the  inscription 
"  Ave  Maria,"  which  Pulgar  had  affixed  to  the 
mosque  a  few  hours  before.  On  beholding  this 
abominable  sacrilege,  all  the  zeal,  the  pride,  the  long- 
restrained  fury  of  the  Castihans  burst  forth  at  once. 
Pulgar  was  not  present,  but  one  of  his  intimate 
friends,  Garcilaso  de  la  Vega,*  threw^  himself  at  the 
feet  of  the  queen,  and  so  earnestly  entreated  her  per- 
mission to  avenge  this  insult,  that  his  request  was 

*  This  Garcilaso  de  laVegn  is  said  to  have  been  the  father  of  the  great 
poet 


ISABELLA    OF    CASTILE.  155 

granted ;  he  encountered  and  slew  the  Moor  in 
single  combat,  and  the  engagement  immediately  be- 
came general.  Isabella,  at  once  shocked  by  the 
consequences  of  her  curiosity,  and  terrified  by  the 
sudden  onset  and  din  of  arms,  threw  herself  on  her 
knees  with  all  her  ladies,  and  prayed  earnestly,  while 
"  lance  to  lance,  and  horse  to  horse,"  the  battle 
fiercely  raged  around  her  :  at  length,  victory  decided 
for  the  Christians,  and  the  Moors  were  driven  back 
with  loss  upon  the  city.  The  Marquis  of  Cadiz 
then  rode  up  to  the  queen,  and  while  she  yet  trembled 
with  agitation,  he,  with  grave  courtesy,  apologized 
for  the  combat  which  had  taken  place,  as  if  it  had 
been  a  mere  breach  of  etiquette,  and  gallantly  attrib- 
uted the  victory  to  her  presence.  On  the  spot 
where  this  battle  was  fought  Isabella  founded  a  con- 
vent, which  still  exists,  and  in  its  garden  is  a  laurel 
which,  according  to  the  tradition  of  the  place,  was 
planted  by  her  own  hand. 

Not  long  afterward,  Isabella  was  exposed  to  still 
greater  danger.  One  sultry  night  in  the  month  of 
Jul}'',  she  had  been  lying  on  her  couch  reading  by 
the  light  of  a  taper.  About  midnight  she  arose  and 
went  into  her  oratory  to  perform  her  devotions; 
and  one  of  her  attendants,  in  removing  the  taper, 
placed  it  too  near  the  silken  curtains  which  divided 
her  magnificent  pavilion  into  various  compartments ; 
the  hangings,  moved  by  the  evening  breeze,  caught 
fire,  and  were  instantly  in  a  blaze  ;  the  conflagration 
spread  from  tent  to  tent,  and  in  a  few  moments  the 
whole  of  this  division  of  the  camp  was  in  flames. 

The  queen  had  scarcely  time  to  extricate  herself 
from  the  burning  draperies,  and  her  first  thought 
was  for  the  safety  of  her  husband ;  she  flew  to  his 
tent ;  tlie  king,  upon  the  first  a-larm,  and  uncertain 
of  the  nature  of  the  danger,  had  leaped  from  his  bed, 
and  was  rushing  forth  half-dressed,  with  his  sword 
in  his  hand.  The  king  being  in  safety,  Isabella's 
liQXt  thought  was  for  her  son ;  he  had  already  been 


156  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

extricated  by  his  attendant,  and  carried  to  the  tent 
of  the  Marquis  of  Cubra.  No  Uves  were  lost,  but 
the  whole  of  the  queen's  wardrobe  and  an  immense 
quantity  of  arms  and  treasure  were  destroyed. 

The  Moors,  wlio  from  their  walls  beheld  this  con- 
flagration, entertained  some  hopes  that  such  a  terri- 
ble disaster  and  the  approach  of  winter  would  induce 
the  sovereigns  to  abandon  the  siege.  Their  aston- 
ishment was  great  when  they  saw  a  noble  and  regu- 
lar city  rise  from  the  ruins  of  the  camp.  It  owed 
its  existence  to  the  piety  and  magnanimity  of  Isa- 
bella, who  founded  it  as  a  memorial  of  her  gratitude 
to  Heaven,  and  at  the  same  time  to  manifest  the 
determination  of  herself  and  her  husband  never  to 
relinquish  the  siege  while  Granada  remained  stand- 
ing. The  army  wished  to  call  this  new  city  by  the 
name  of  their  beloved  queen;  but  the  piety  of  Isa- 
bella disclaimed  this  compliment,  and  she  named  it 
La  Santa  Fe. 

It  w\is  during  the  erection  of  this  city  that  Queen 
Isabella  once  more  despatched  a  missive  to  Colum- 
bus, desiring  his  return  to  the  court,  that  she  might 
have  farther  conference  with  him  ;  and  she  sent  him 
at  the  same  time,  with  that  benevolence  which  char- 
acterized her,  a  sum  of  money  to  bear  his  expenses, 
and  to  provide  him  with  a  mule  for  his  journey,  and 
habiliments  fitted  to  appear  in  the  royal  presence. 
He  arrived  at  the  city  of  Santa  Fe  just  as  Granada, 
reduced  to  the  last  extremity  by  famine  and  the  loss 
of  its  bravest  inhabitants,  had  surrendered  on  terms 
of  capitulation,  and  the  standard  of  the  Cross  and 
the  great  banner  of  Castile  were  seen  floating  toge- 
ther on  the  lofty  watch-tower  of  the  Alhambra.  It 
was  on  the  6th  of  January,  1492,  that  Isabella  and 
Ferdinand  made  their  triumphal  entry  into  the  fallen 
city;  the  unfortunate  Boabdil-met  them,  and  surren- 
dered the  keys  to  King  Ferdinand.  He  would  have 
dismounted  and  tendered  the  usual  token  of  vassal- 
age, by  kissing  the  hands  of  the  king  and  queen,  but 


ISABELLA    OF    CASTILE.  157 

tli'*y  i^eneroiisly  declined  it ;  and  Isabella,  with  many 
kind  and  courteous  words,  delivered  to  Boabdil  his 
only  son,  w^ho  had  hitherto  been  detained  as  a  hos- 
tage. The  Moorish  monarch,  accompanied  by  all 
his  family  and  snite,  then  took  his  melancholy  way 
towards  the  province  which  had  been  assigned  to 
him  as  his  future  residence.  On  reaching  a  hill 
above  Granada  (which  has  since  been  called  by  tlie 
Spaniards  El  Ultimo  Suspiro  del  Moro,  "  the  last  sigh 
of  the  Moor"),  Boabdil  turned,  and,  casting  a  last 
look  back  on  the  beautiful  Vega,  and  the  glorious 
city  of  his  forefathers,  he  burst  into  tears.  "  You 
do  well,"  said  his  high-spirited  mother,  Ayxa,  "  to 
weep  like  a  woman  for  what  you  knew  not  how  to 
defend  like  a  man  !"  The  reproof  might  have  been 
just,  but  in  such  a  moment  the  cruel  taunt  ill  became 
a  mother's  heart  or  lips.  Boabdil  afterward  retired 
to  Africa,  and  resided  in  the  territories  of  the  King 
of  Fez.  He  survived  thg  conquest  of  Granada  thirty- 
four  years,  and  died  at  last  on  the  field,  valiantly 
fighting  in  defence  of  the  kingdom  of  Fez. 

The  war  of  Granada  lasted  ten  years,  and  with 
the  surrender  of  the  capital  terminated  the  dominion 
of  the  Moors  in  Spain,  which,  dating  from  the  defeat 
of  Roderick,  the  last  of  the  Goths,  had  endured  seven 
hundred  and  seventy-eight  years.  When  the  tumult 
of  this  great  triumph  had  in  some  degree  subsided, 
Isabella  had  leisure  to  attend  to  Columbus,  and  the 
negotiation  with  him  was  renev/ed.  The  terms, 
however,  on  which  he  insisted  with  a  lofty  enthu- 
siasm, appeared  so  exorbitant  when  compared  with 
his  lowly  condition  and  the  vague  nature  of  his 
views,  that  his  old  adversary,  Fernando  de  Talavera, 
now  Archbishop  of  Granada,  again  interposed  be- 
tween him  and  the  kind  intentions  of  the  queen,  and 
said  so  much  that  Isabella,  after  some  hesitation,  de- 
clared his  pretensions  to  be  inadmissible.  Colum- 
bus, on  the  other  hand,  would  not  abate  one  iota  of 
his  demands ;  in  bitterness  of  spirit  he  saddled  his 

I.—M 


58  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

mule,  and  turned  his  back  on  Santa  Fe.  Scarcely 
had  he  departed  when  two  of  his  most  enthusiastic 
friends,  who  were  besides  high  in  the  royal  favour,* 
waited  on  the  queen.  They  vindicated  Columbus 
from  the  aspersions  of  Talavera,  they  entreated,  they 
remonstrated  with  all  the  zeal  which  their  friendship 
for  him  and  their  loyalty  to  the  queen  could  inspire. 
The  Marchioness  of  Moya  added  to  their  arguments 
the  most  eloquent  persuasions.  Isabella  listened. 
She  had  ever  been  friendly  to  this  great  and  glorious 
enterprise,  and  her  enthusiasm  was  now  kindled  by 
that  of  her  friend ;  she  still  hesitated  for  one  mo- 
ment, recollecting  how  completely  the  royal  trea- 
sury was  drained  by  the  late  war,  and  that  the  king, 
her  husband,  was  coldly  averse  to  the  measure.  At 
length  she  exclaimed,  "  It  shall  be  so ;  I  will  under- 
take the  enterprise  for  my  own  kingdom  of  Castile, 
and  Vv'ill  pledge  my  jew^els  for  the  necessary  sum  !" 
— "  Tliis,"  saj^s  the  historian  of  Columbus,  "was  the 
proudest  moment  in  the  life  of  Isabella ;  it  stamped 
her  renown  for  ever  as  the  patroness  of  the  discov- 
ery of  the  New  World." 

A  courier  was  immediately  despatched  to  recall 
Columbus,  who  had  already  reached  the  bridge  of 
Pinos,  tw  o  or  three  leagues  from  Granada.  He  hesi- 
tated at  first,  but  when  he  was  informed  that  the 
messenger  came  from  the  queen  herself,  and  bore 
her  pledge  and  promise,  confiding  in  her  royal 
word,  he  turned  his  mule  at  once,  and  retraced  his 
steps  to  Santa  Fe.  The  compact  between  the  two 
sovereigns  and  Columbus  w^as  signed  in  April,  1492, 
Isabella  undertaking  all  the  expenses  except  one- 
eighth,  which  was  borne  by  the  admiral ;  and  in  the 
follow  ing  August  Columbus  set  sail  from  Palos. 

The  history  of  his  voyages  and  discoveries  does 
not  properly  enter  into  the  personal  history  of  Queen 
Isabella,     it  may  be  remarked  generally,  that  in  ail 

*  Luis  de  St.  Angel  and  Alonzo  de  QuintanilU 


ISABELLA    OF    CASTILE.  159 

her  conduct  towards  Columbus,  and  all  her  views 
and  decrees  in  the  government  of  the  newly-discov- 
ered v/orld,  we  find  the  same  beautiful  consistency, 
the  same  generous  feeling,  and  the  same  rectitude 
of  intention.  Next  to  that  moment  in  which  Isabella 
declared  herself  the  sole  patroness  of  Columbus,  and 
undertook  the  vo^^age  of  discovery  for  her  "  own 
kingdom  of  Castile,"  the  most  memorable  epoch  of 
her  life  was  his  return  from  the  New  World,  when 
she  received  him  in  state  at  Barcelona ;  and  when, 
laying  at  her  feet  the  productions  of  those  unknown 
lands,  he  gave  her  a  detailed  narrative  of  his  won- 
derful voyage. 

Isabella  was  particularly  struck  by  his  account  of 
the  inhabitants  of  these  new-found  regions ;  she 
took  a  tender  interest  in  their  Vv^elfare,  and  often 
reiterated  her  special  commands  to  Columbus  that 
they  should  be  treated  with  kindness,  and  converted 
or  civilized  onl}^  by  the  gentlest  means.  Of  the  va- 
riety of  circumstances  wiiich  interposed  between 
these  poor  people  and  her  benevolent  intentions  we 
can  only  judge  by  a  detailed  account  of  the  events 
which  followed,  and  the  characters  of  those  intrusted 
with  the  management  of  the  new  discoveries.  When 
the  most  pious  churchmen  and  enlightened  states- 
men of  her  time  could  not  determine  whether  it  was 
or  was  not  lawful,  and  according  to  the  Christian 
religion,  to  enslave  the  Indians, — when  Columbus 
himself  pressed  the  measure  as  a  political  necessity, 
and  at  once  condemned  to  slavery  those  who  offered 
the  slightest  opposition  to  the  Spanish  invaders, — 
Isabella  settled  the  matter  according  to  the  dictates 
of  her  own  merciful  heart  and  upright  mind.  She 
ordered  that  all  the  Indians  should  be  conveyed  back 
to  their  respective  homes,  and  forbade  absolutely  all 
harsh  measures  towards  them  on  any  pretence.  Un- 
able at  such  a  distance  to  measure  all  the  difficulties 
with  which  Columbus  had  to  contend,  her  indigna- 
tion fell  on  him ;  and  the  cruelties  which  his  followers 


180  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

exercised,  at  least  under  the  sanction  of  his  name, 
drew  on  him  her  deep  displeasure. 

While  under  the  immediate  auspices  of  Isabella 
these  grand  discoveries  were  proceeding  in  the  New 
World,  Ferdinand  was  engrossed  by  ambitious  pro- 
jects nearer  home.  Naples  had  been  invaded  by 
Charles  VIII.  in  1494,  and  Gonsalvo  de  Cordova  had 
been  sent  to  oppose  him.  Gonsalvo,  "the  Great 
Captain,"  by  a  series  of  brilliant  military  successes, 
and  political  perfidies  of  the  deepest  die,  in  the  end 
secured  the  kingdom  of  Naples  for  his  master,  Fer- 
dinand. The  legitimate  heir,  and  last  descendant  of 
the  family  of  Alphonso  the  Magnanimous,  was 
brouglit  a  prisoner  to  Spain,  and  died  there  after  a 
captivity  of  fifty  years. 

Isabella,  meantime,  in  the  interior  of  her  palace, 
was  occupied  by  interests  and  feelings  nearer  and 
dearer  to  her  heart  than  the  conquest  of  kingdoms 
or  the  discovery  of  worlds  f  and,  during  the  last  few 
years  of  ner  life,  was  gradually  crushed  to  the  earth 
by  a  series  of  domestic  calamities,  which  no  human 
wisdom  could  have  averted,  and  for  which  no  earthly 
prosperity  couid  afford  consolation. 

In  1496,  her  mother,  the  queen-dowager  of  Cas- 
tile, died  in  her  arms.  In  1497,  just  before  Colum- 
bus sailed  on  his  third  voyage,  a  double  family 
arrangement  had  been  made  between  the  houses  of 
Spain  and  Austria,  which  bade  fair  to  consolidate  the 
power  of  both.  The  Infanta  Joanna  was  betrothed 
to  the  Archduke  Philip,  son  and  heir  of  the  Emperoi 
Maximilian ;  and  the  same  splendid  and  gallant  fleet 
which  bore  her  from  the  shores  of  Spain  broughl 
back   Margaret   of  Austria,*  the  destined  wife   ol 

*  Margaret  of  Austria  was  one  of  the  most  accomplished  and  remark 
able  women  of  that  time.  Eofore  her  marriage  with  Prince  Juan  she 
had  been  betrothed  to  Charles  VIII.  of  France;  and  on  her  voyage  to 
Spain,  meeting  with  a  violent  storm  v.hich  threatened  lo  ingulf  the 
whole  fleet,  she  collected  her  most  valuable  jewels,  and  bound  them  on 
her  arm,  together  with  a  slip  of  paper,  on  which  she  had  written  witli 
her  pencil  the  well-known  couplet  — 


ISABELLA    OF    CASTILE.  161 

Prince  Juan,  the  only  son  of  Isabella  and  Ferdinand. 
In  the  spring  of  1197,  Juan  and  Margaret,  then  both 
in  the  bloom  of  youth,  were  united  at  Burgos,  with 
all  befitting  pomp  and  revelry. 

The  queen's  most  beloved  daughter,  the  Princess 
Isabella,  had  lost  her  young  husband,  Alphonso  of 
Portugal ;  within  four  months  after  his  marriage  he 
was  killed  by  a  fall  from  his  horse,  and  she  retired 
to  a  convent,  where,  from  an  excess  of  grief  or 
piety,  she  gave  herself  up  to  a  course  of  religious 
abstinence  and  austerities  which  undermined  her 
constitution.  Several  years  after  the  death  of  Al- 
phonso she  was  induced  to  bestow  her  hand  on  his 
cousin  and  heir,  Don  Emanuel,  who  had  just  as- 
cended the  throne  of  Portugal.  While  yet  the  cus- 
tomary festivities  were  going  forward  upon  the 
occasion  of  this  royal  marriage,  the  young  Prince 
Juan  died  of  a  fever,  within  five  months  after  his 
marriage  with  Margaret,  and  her  infant  perished  ere 
it  saw  the  light.  Isabella,  though  struck  to  the 
heart  by  this  cruel  disappointment  of  her  best  hopes 
and  affections,  found  strength  in  her  habitual  piety 
to  bear  the  blow,  and  was  beginning  to  recover  from 
the  first  bitterness  of  grief,  when  a  stroke,  even  more 
lastingly  and  deeply  felt,  bowed  her  almost  to  the 
grave  with  sorrow.  Her  daughter,  the  Queen  of 
Portugal,  whom  she  appears  to  have  loved  and 
trusted  beyond  every  human  being,  died  in  childbirth 
at  Toledo,  bequeathing  to  her  mother's  care  a  beau- 
tiful but  feeble  infant,  the  heir  to  Castile,  Arragon, 

"  Ci-git  Margot,  la  gentilP  flemoiselle, 
Qu'a  deux  maris,  et  encore  est  pucelle  I" 

A.  singular  instance  of  strength  and  presence  of  mind  in  a  young  prin 
cess  of  seventeen.  She  was  afterward  contracted  or  married  to  two  or 
three  husbands  successively;  but  at  fonr-and-twenty,  being  disgusted 
with  tiiese  matrimonial  experiments,  Margaret  determined  to  pass  the 
rest  of  her  life  in  a  single  state.  She  was  afterward  Governess  of  the 
Netherlands;  and  in  the  name  of  her  nephew,  Charles  V.,  who  intrusted 
V:?v  with  full^)owers,  she  negotiated  with  Louisa,  the  mother  of  Francis 
f. .  the  peace  of  Cambray,  hence  called  in  history  "lapaix  des  dames  " 
JJ:;r"a ret  died  in  1530, 

0  2 


162  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

and  Granada,  to  Portugal,  Navarre,  Naples,  Sicily, 
and  to  all  the  opening  glories  of  the  eastern  and 
western  worlds.  As  if  crushed  beneath  the  burden 
of  such  magnificent  destinies,  the  child  pined  away 
and  died.  These  successive  losses  followed  so 
quick  upon  one  another,  that  it  seemed  as  if  the 
hand  of  Heaven  had  doomed  the  house  of  Ferdinand 
and  Isabella  to  desolation. 

The  reader  need  Iiardly  be  reminded  of  the  igno- 
minious and  ungrateful  treatment  of  Columbus,  nor 
of  the  manner  in  which  he  was  sent  home  after  his 
third  voyage,  loaded  with  fetters,  from  the  world  he 
had  discovered,  to  the  sovereigns  he  had  enriched 
and  aggrandized  by  his  discoveries.  In  justice  to 
Isabella,  it  is  fit  to  account  for  her  share  in  this  re- 
volting transaction ;  and  it  cannot  be  done  better  or 
more  succinctly  than  in  the  very  words  of  the  histo- 
rian of  Columbus. 

"  The  queen,  having  taken  a  maternal  interest  in 
the  welfare  of  the  natives,  had  been  repeatedly 
offended  by  what  appeared  to  her  pertinacity  on  the 
part  of  Columbus,  in  continuing  to  make  slaves  of 
those  taken  in  warfare,  in  contradiction  to  her  known 
wishes.  The  same  ships  which  brought  home  the 
companions  of  Roldan  brought  likcAvise  a  great  num- 
ber of  slaves.  Some  Columbus  had  been  obliged  to 
grant  to  these  men  by  articles  of  capitulation  ;  others 
they  had  brought  away  clandestinely  ;  among  them 
were  several  daughters  of  caciques,  who  had  been 
seduced  away  from  their  families  and  their  native 
island  by  these  profligates.  The  gifts  and  transfers 
of  these  unhappy  beings  were  all  ascribed  to  the  will 
of  Columbus,  and  represented  to  Isabella  in  their 
darkest  colours.  Her  sensibility  as  a  woman  and 
her  dignity  as  a  queen  were  instantly  in  arms. 
*  What  power,'  she  exclaimed,  indignantly,  '  has  the 
admiral  to  give  away  my  vassals  V  She  determined, 
by  one  decided  and  peremptory  act,  to  ^show  her 
abhorrence  of  these  outrages  upon  humanity  ^  she 


ISABELLA    OF    CASTILE.  163 

ordered  all  the  Indians  to  be  restored  to  their  conn- 
try  and  friends.  Nay,  more,  her  measnre  was  retro- 
spective. She  commanded  that  those  who  had  for- 
merly been  sent  home  by  the  admiral  should  be 
sought  out,  and  sent  back  to  Hispanicla.  Unfortu- 
nately for  Columbus,  at  this  very  juncture,  in  one 
of  his  letters  he  had  advised  the  continuance  of  In  ■ 
dian  slavery  for  some  time  longer,  as  a  measure 
important  for  the  welfare  of  the  colony.  This  con- 
tributed to  heighten  the  indignation  of  Isabella,  and 
induced  her  no  long-er  to  oppose  the  sending  out  of 
a  commission  to  investigate  his  conduct,  and,  if  ne- 
cessary, to  supersede  his  commission."  When  Co- 
lumbus had  sailed  on  his  first  voyage  of  discovery, 
Isabella  had  given  a  strong  proof  of  her  kindly  feel- 
ing towards  him,  by  appointing  his  sons  pages  to 
Don  Juan ;  thus  providing  for  their  education,  and 
opening  to  them  a  path  to  the  highest  offices  in  the 
court.  Hence,  perhaps,  arose  the  friendship  which 
existed  between  Columbus  and  Donna  Joanna  de 
Torres,  who  had  been  nurse  or  gouvernante  of  the 
young  prince,  and  was  high  in  the  confidence  and 
favour  of  Isabella.  Too  proud,  perhaps,  to  address 
himself  immediately  to  those  who  had  injured  him, 
Columbus  wrote  to  Donna  Joanna  a  detailed  account 
of  the  disgraceful  treatment  he  had  met,  and  justified 
his  own  conduct.  The  court  was  then  at  Granada, 
and  Joanna  de  Torres  in  attendance  on  the  queen. 
No  sooner  had  she  received  the  letter  than  she  car- 
ried it  to  her  mistress,  and  read  aloud  this  solemn 
and  affecting  appeal  against  the  injustice  and  ingrati- 
tude with  which  his  services  had  been  recompensed. 
Isabella,  who  had  never  contemplated  such  an  ex- 
tremity, was  filled  with  mingled  astonishment,  indig- 
nation, and  sorrow.  She  immediately  wrote  to 
Columbus,  expressing  her  grie#for  all  he  had  endured, 
apologizmg  for  the  conduct  of  Bovadilla,  and  inviting 
him  in  affectionate  terms  to  visit  the  court.  He 
came  accordingly, "  not  as  one  in  disgrace,  but  richly 


104  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

dressed,  and  with  all  the  marks  of  rank  and  distinc- 
tion. Isabella  received  him  in  the  Alhambra,  and 
when  he  entered  her  apartment  she  was  so  over- 
powered that  she  burst  into  tears,  and  could  only 
extend  her  hand  to  him.  Columbus  himself,  who 
had  borne  up  firmly  against  the  stern  conflicts  of  the 
world,  and  had  endured  with  a  lofty  scorn  the  inju- 
ries and  insults  of  ignoble  men,  when  he  beheld  the 
queen's  emotion,  could  no  longer  suppress  his  own. 
He  threw  himself  at  her  feet,  and  for  some  time  was 
unable  to  utter  a  word,  for  the  violence  of  his  tears 
and  sobbings."*  There  can  be  no  doubt  that,  haa  it 
depended  on  Isabella,  Columbus  would  never  more 
have  had  reason  to  complain  of  injustice  or  ingrati- 
tude on  the  part  of  the  sovereigns ;  he  had  won  her 
entire  esteem  and  her  implicit  confidence,  and  all  her 
intentions  towards  him  were  sincerely  kind  and  up- 
right.f  It  was  owing  to  the  interference  of  Ferdi- 
nand and  his  ministers  that  the  viceroyalty  of  the 
New  World  was  taken  from  him  and  given  to  Ovan- 
do,  as  a  temporary  measure ;  but  it  was  under  Isa- 
bella's peculiar  patronage  and  protection  that  he 
saited  on  his  fourth  voyage  of  discovery,  in  1502. 

Isabella  did  not  live  to  see  him  return  from  this 
eventful  and  disastrous  voyage.  A  dark  cloud  had 
gathered  over  her  latter  years,  and  domestic  griefs 
and  cares  pressed  heavily  upon  her  affectionate 
heart.  The  Princess  Joanna,  now  her  heiress,  had 
married  the  Archduke  Philip  of  Austria,  who  was 
remarkable  for  his  gay  manners  and  captivating  per 
son ;  the  marriage  had  been  one  of  mere  policy  on 
his  part.  But  the  poor  princess,  who,  unhappily  for 
herself,  united  to  a  plain  person  and  infirm  health 
strong  passions  and  great  sensibility,  had  centred 
all  her  affections  in  her  husband,  whom  she  regarded 
with  a  fond  and  exclusii^e  idolatry,  while  he  returned 
her  attachment  with  the  most  negligent  coolness. 

*  Vide  Life  and  Voyages  of  Columbus  t  Ibid. 


ISABELLA    OF    CASTILE.  105 

It  doe?5  not  appear  that  the  imbecility  of  Joanna  was 
natural,  but  rather  the  effect  of  accident  and  disease, 
for  occasionally  she  displayed  glimpses  of  strong 
sense,  generous  pride,  and  high  feeling,  whieli  ren- 
dered  the  derangement  of  her  faculties  more  in- 
tensely painful  and  affecting.  Though  Isabella  had 
the  satisfaction  of  seeing  Joanna  a  mother;  thoujli 
she  pressed  in  her  arms  a  grandson,*  whose  splendid 
destinies,  if  she  could  have  beheld  them  through  tiie 
long  lapse  of  years,  might  in  part  have  consoled  her, 
yet  the  feeble  health  of  this  infant,  and  the  sight  of 
her  daughter's  misery,  imbittered  her  days.  At 
length,  on  the  departure  of  Philip  for  the  Low 
Countries,  the  unhappy  Joanna  gave  way  to  such 
transports  of  grief,  that  it  ended  in  the  complete  be- 
reavement of  her  senses.  To  this  terrible  blow  was 
added  another;  for  about  the  same  time,  the  news 
arrived  that  Catherine  of  Arragon  had  lost  her  young 
husband.  Prince  Arthur,  after  a  union  of  only  five 
months.  Isabella's  maternal  heart,  w^ounded  in  the 
early  death  or  protracted  sorrows  of  her  children, 
had  no  hope,  no  consolation,  but  in  ner  deep  sense 
of  religion.  Ximenes  was  at  this  time  her  confes- 
sor. In  his  strong  and  upright,  but  somewhat  harsh 
and  severe  mind,  she  found  that  support  and  counsel 
which  might  aid  her  in  grappling  with  the  cares  of 
empire,  but  not  the  comfort  which  could  sooth  her 
affliction  as  a  mother.  Ferdinand  was  so  engrossed 
by  his  Italian  wars,  and  in  weaving  subtle  webs  of 
policy  either  to  ensnare  his  neighbours  or  veil  his 
own  deep-laid  plans,  that  he  had  little  thought  or 
care  for  domestic  sorrows.  So  Isabella  pmed  away 
lonely  in  her  grandeur,  till  the  deep  melancholy  of 
her  mind  seized  on  her  constitution,  and  threw  her 
into  a  rapid  decline.  While  on  her  death-bed,  she 
received  intelligence  of  Ovando's  tyrannical  govern- 
ment at  Hispaniola,  and  of  the  barbarities  which  had 

♦  Afterward  the  Emperor  Charles  V 


l6Q  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

been  exercised  upon  the  unhappy  Indians  ;  her  hor- 
ror and  indig-nation  hastened  the  effects  of  her  dis- 
ease. With  her  dying  breath,  she  exacted  from 
Ferdinand  a  solemn  promise  that  he  would  instantly 
recall  Ovando,  redress  the  grievances  of  the  poor 
Indians,  and  protect  them  from  all  future  oppression. 
Ferdinand  gave  the  required  promise,  and  how  he 
kept  it  is  recorded  in  traces  of  blood  and  guilt  in  the 
history  of  the  New  World.  Soon  after  this  conver- 
sation Isabella  expired  at  Medina  del  Campo,  after  a 
lingering  illness  of  four  months  ;  she  died  on  the 
25Lh  of  November,  1505,  in  the  fifty-fourth  year  of 
her  age,  having  reigned  thirty-one  years.  In  her 
I'a  st  will  she  expressed  a  wish  to  be  buried  in  the 
Alhambra,  "  in  a  low  sepulchre,  without  any  monu- 
ment, unless  the  king,  her  lord,  should  desire  that 
his  body  after  death  should  rest  in  any  other  spot. 
In  that  case,  she  willed  that  her  body  should  be  re- 
moved, and  laid  beside  that  of  the  king,  wherever  it 
might  be  deposited ;"  in  order,  adds  this  affecting 
(document  of  her  piety,  tenderness,  and  humility — 
"  in  order  that  the  union  we  have  enjoyed  while  liv- 
ing, and  which  (through  the  mercy  of  God)  we  hope 
our  souls  will  experience  in  heaven,  may  be  repre- 
sented bv  our  bodies  in  the  earth." 

The  character  of  Isabella  as  a  woman  and  a 
queen,  though  not  free  from  the  failings  incidental 
to  humanity,  is  certainly  the  most  splendid,  and  at 
the  same  time  the  most  interesting  and  blameless, 
which  history  has  recorded.  She  had  all  the  talents, 
the  strength  of  mind,  and  the  royal  pride  of  Queen 
Elizabeth,  without  her  harshness,  her  despotism,  and 
her  arrogance :  and  she  possessed  the  personal  grace, 
the  gentleness,  and  feminine  accomplishments  of 
Mary  Stuart,  without  her  weakness.  Her  virtues 
were  truly  her  own ;  her  faults  and  errors  were  the 
result  of  external  circumstances,  and  belonged  to 
the  times  and  the  situation  in  which  she  was  placed. 
What  is  most  striking  and  singular  in  the  character 


ISABELLA    OF    CASTILK.  167 

ot  Isabella,  is  the  union  of  excessive  pride — Oas- 
tilian  pride,  amounting  at  times  to  haughtiness,  and 
even  wilfulness,  whenever  her  di2:nityas  a  queen  was 
concerned,  with  extreme  sensibihty  and  softness  of 
deportment  as  a  woman.  She  adored  her  husband, 
and  yet  would  never  suffer  him  to  interfere  with  her 
authority  as  an  independent  sovereign ;  and  she  was 
as  jealous  of  her  prerogative  as  Elizabeth  herself. 
When  tlie  cortes  of  An^agon  hesitated  to  acknow- 
ledge her  daughter  Joanna  the  heiress  to  Anagon  as 
»vell  as  to  Castile,  Isabella  exclaimed,  with  all  the 
wilfulness  of  a  proud  woman,  "Another  time  it 
were  a  shorter  way  to  assemble  an  army  instead  of 
issembling  the  states !" 

Isabella's  extreme  deference  for  the  ecclesiastics 
round  hei'  was  a  misfortune  for  her  people  ;  but 
consistently  even  with  the  best  points  in  her  chaj-- 
acter,  it  could  not  have  been  otherwise.     She  was, 
from  education,  early  impressions,  and  a  natural  en- 
thusiasm of  temper,  exceedingly  devout,  according 
to  the  received  idea  of  true  piety.     A  Luther  had 
not  yet  arisen  to  break  asunder  those  bonds  whicti 
chained  down  the  most  powerful  and  the  most  en- 
lightened  spirits  of  that  age  ;  Isabella  could  hardly 
be  expected  to  think  for  herself  on  points  which  it 
was  considered  a  deadly  sin  to  discuss,  and  on  which 
the  wisest  and  greatest  men  of  thiose  times  dared 
not  entertain  a  doubt.      Yet  while  Isabella  rever- 
enced the  churchmen  as  the  organs  of  that  Church 
in  the  bosom  of  which  she  reposed  her  hopes  of  sal- 
vation>  her  submission  was  far  less  bljpd  and  bigoted 
than  is  usually  imagined.     She  drew  a  line,  beyond 
which  she  w^ould  not  permit  the.ecclesiastical  power 
to  presnme.     When  the  President  and  Council  of 
Valladolid  permitted  an  appeal  to  the  pope,  on  a  mat- 
ter merely  civil,  she  was  so  indignant,  that  she  first 
suspended  and  then  deposed  the   whole  of  these 
functionaries  as  a  warning  to  others. 
While  yet  a  girl.  Isabella  had  for  her  confessor  the 


168  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

Dominican  Torqiiemada.  This  fanatic,  of  whom 
we  may  in  charity  suppose  tliat  his  brain  was  turned 
by  zeal  and  religious  austerities,  had  extorted  from 
her  a  promise,  ratified  by  a  solemn  vow,  that  if  ever 
she  ascended  the  throne  of  Castile,  she  would  em- 
ploy all  human  means  to  root  heres}'  and  infidelity 
out  of  her  kingdom.  But  neither  this  vow,  though 
subsequently  pressed  upon  her  ;  nor  the  impetuous 
eloquence  of  the  fiery  Torquemada ;  nor  the  argu- 
ments of  the  Cardinal  Mendoza ;  nor  the  persua- 
sions of  her  confessor  Taiavera  ;  nor  the  influence 
of  her  husband,  nor  all  united,  could,  for  a  length  of 
time,  conquer  her  repugnance  to  the  establishment 
of  the  Inquisition.  She  consented  at  last,  after  re- 
sisting for  five  years,  and.  could  she  have  foreseen 
all  the  horrors  that  ensued,  she  would  herself  have 
died  at  the  stake  rather  than  have  lent  her  fair  name 
to  sanction  that  infernal  engine  of  tyranny. 

It  was  under  the  auspices  of  Isabella  that  Cardi- 
nal Ximenes  introduced  his  famous  reforms  into  the 
religious  orders  of  Spain;  the  correction  of  the  hor- 
rible abuses  which  had  crept  into  the  convents  was 
strongly  resisted,  and  occasioned  a  general  outcry 
of  all  the  clergy.     The  General  of  the  Franciscans 
waited  on  the  queen,  and  remonstrated  in  high  terms 
against  this  interference  with  the  privileges  of  his 
order ;  at  the  same  time  reflecting  severely  on  Car- 
dinal Ximenes,  and  his  influence  over  her  mind.  Isa- 
bella listened  to  this  turbulent  friar  with  some  impa- 
tience ;  but  little  accustomed  to  be  dictated  to  in 
this  style,  she^t  length  rose  from  her  seat,  and  de- 
sired him  to  remember  who  he  was  and  to  whom  he 
spoke.     "  Madam,"  replied  the  monk,  undauntedly 
"  I  remember  that.  I  am  but  ashes  and  dust,  and  thai 
5  speak  to  Queen  Isabella,  who  is  but  dust  and  ashea 
like  myself."     Isabella  immediately  turned  from  him 
with  a  look  of  cool  disdain.  The  next  day  he  was  or- 
dered to  quit  the  kingdom,  and  Ximenes,  supported  by 
the  royal  power,  pursued  his  system  of  reformation 


ISABELLA    Ol-'    CASTILK.  IQQ 

It  is  worthy  of  remark,  that  Isabella,  though  ex- 
posed ill  early  life  to  all  the  contag-ion  of  a  most 
depraved  court,  preserved  a  reputation  unsullied  even 
by  the  breath  of  calumny.  The  women  who  formed 
her  court  and  liabitiial  society  were  generally  esti- 
mable. The  men,  who  owed  their  rise  to  her  par- 
ticular favour  and  patronage,  justified  her  penetra- 
tion, and  were  all  distinguished  either  for  woith  or 
talent.  The  most  illustrious  were  Columbus  and 
Ximenes,  certainly  tlie  two  greatest  men  of  that 
time,  in  point  of  original  capacit}^  boldness  of 
thought,  and  integrity  of  purpose.  Iler  husband, 
Ferdinand,  hated  and  oppressed  the  former,  and 
hated  and  feared  the  latter.  Both  would  have  been 
distinguished  in  any  age  or  in  any  circumstances, 
but,  next  to  themselves,  owed  their  rise  and  their 
fame  to  Isabella.  It  was  in  the  reign  of  Isabella 
that  the  Spanish  language  and  literature  began  to 
assume  a  polished  and  regular  form.  The  two  most 
celebrated  poets  of  her  time  were  the  Marquis  de 
Santillana  (father  of  the  gay  young  Duke  del  Infan- 
tado  already  mentioned)  and  Juan  de  Kncina,  whom 
she  particularly  patronised,  and  who  translated  the 
Eclogues  of  Virgil  into  Spanish  for  her  pleasure  and 
amusement.  She  also  patronised  the  newly-invented 
art  of  printing.  The  first  printing-piess  set  up  in 
Spain  was  established  at  Burgos  under  her  auspices, 
and  printed  books,  and  foreign  and  classical  works 
were  imported  free  of  all  duty.  Through  her  zeal 
and  patronage  the  University  of  Salamanca  rose  to 
that  eminence  which  it  assumed  among  the  learned 
institutions  of  that  period,  and  rivalled  those  of  Pisa 
and  Padua.  She  prepared  the  w^ay  for  that  golden  age 
of  Spanish  literature  which  immediately  succeeded. 
Garcilaso  de  la  Vega,  the  greatest  of  "the  Spanish 
poets,  was  born  in  the  same  year  that  Isabella  died. 

The  plan  which  Isabella  appears  to  have  had  most 
at  heart  during  the  w^hole  of  her  reign,  was  the  in- 
lernal  regulation  of  her  states,  and  the  moral  im 

Vol.  I.— P 


170  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

provement  of  her  people.     The  long  civil  wars,  and 
the  weak,  disgraceful  reign  of  her  predecessor,  had 
disjointed  all  the  springs  of  government,  had  substi- 
tuted for  the   royal   authority  that  of  many  petty 
tyrants,  and  filled  the  country  with  bands  of  lawless 
depredators.     Some  idea  may  be  formed  of  the  ex- 
tent of  these  evils  from  the  fact,  that  when  Isabella 
repaired  to  Seville,  in  1481,  for  the  avowed  purpose 
of  apprehending  and  punishing  all  those  who  lived 
by  illegal  or  violent  means,  no  less  than  four  thou- 
sand persons  took  to  flight,  conscious  that  the  sword 
of  justice,  once  unsheathed,  must  find  and  strike  at 
their  misdeeds.  The  institution  of  the  Holy  Brother- 
hood  (La  Santa  Hermandad),  so  often  alluded  to  in 
Don  Quixote  and  the  Spanish  tales  and  dramas,  was 
a  confederacy  of  respectable  persons  of  different 
great  cities,  for  the  protection  of  their  persons  and 
property  in  those  evil  times.     Isabella,  conscious  of 
its  importance,  granted  the  royal  sanction  to  this 
brotherhood,  and  caused  its  officers  to  be  legally  in- 
corporated into  a  kind  of  royal  or  national  police ; 
this  she  effected  in  spite  of  the  most  determined 
opposition  from  the  nobility  and  higher  clergy,  who 
deemed  their  privileges  invaded,  and  whose  power 
of  dohig  evil  was  certainl}^  thereby  diminished.    Of 
Isabella's  innate  sense  of  justice,  her  magnanimity, 
her  strong  and  warm  affections,  her  gentle  and  be- 
neficent disposition,  sufficient  has  been  said  in  the 
foregoing  sketch  of  her  life.     Brantome  records  one 
speech  of  hers,  but  without  relating  the  occasion 
which  gave  rise  to  it.     "  The  fruit  of  clemency," 
said   Isabella,  "  is  more    sweet   and   grateful  to  a 
queen,  endued  by  Heaven  with  beauty,  spirit,  and 
the  love  of  true  honour,  than  any  gratified  vengeance, 
however  just  and  reasonable." 

Upon  the  whole,  Isabella  appears  to  have  deserved 
the  simple,  but  beautiful  designation,  which  the  love 
of  her  people  bestowed  upon  her  : — "  Isabella  de  la 
paz  y  bontad  :" — Isabella   of  peace  and   goodness ; 


MARY  QUEEN  OF  SCOTS.  171 

and  the  universal  regret  and  enthusiastic  eulogies 
with  which  they  embalmed  her  memory  have  been 
ratified  by  history  and  posterity. 

On  tlie  death  of  Isabella,  her  daughter  Joanna  and 
Pliilip  of  Austria  succeeded  to  the  throne  of  Castile. 
Ferdinand  had  promised  Isabella  on  her  death-bed, 
that  he  would  never  enter  into  a  second  marriage 
which  might  deprive  her  children  of  the  inheritance 
of  Arragon.  But  excited  b}^  ambition  and  jealousy 
of  his  son-in-law  Philip,  Ferdinand  ungratefully  vio- 
lated this  promise,  and  within  two  years  after  the 
death  of  Isabella,  he  married  Germaine  de  Foix, 
niece  of  Louis  XII.,  and  sister  of  the  celebrated 
Gaston  de  Foix;  she  was  then  in  her  eighteenth 
year,  Ferdinand  in  his  fifty-fourth  ;  by  this  marriage 
he  left  no  heirs,  and  on  his  death,  in  1517,  his  grand- 
son, Don  Carlos,  the  eldest  son  of  Joanna  and  Philip, 
ascended  the  throne  of  Spain  m  right  of  his  mother, 
and  was  soon  afterward  elected  Emperor  of  Ger- 
many, by  the  title  of  Charles  V. 


MARY, 

QUEEN   OF    SCOTS. 


To  a  young  and  candid  mind,  a  state  of  suspicion, 
mistrust,  and  uncertainty  is  at  once  painful  and  un- 
natural;— but  however  disagreeable  and  difficult  it 
may  be  to  doubt ; — however  pleasant  and  easy  to 
take  all  things  for  granted,  the  youthful  reader  ought 
to  be  informed,  that  there  are  certain  points  on  which 
the  highest  historical  authorities  are  at  variance  with 
each  other ;  and  human  testimony  so  nicely  balanced, 
that  every  reasonable  being  has  a  right,  after  due  re- 
flection and  examination,  to  form  his  own  opinion 
Where  men  of  equal  information,  equal  judgment, 


172  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

equal  talent,  equal  candour,  differ  absolutely  and  en- 
tirely, it  must  be  hard  for  others  to  determine. 
Young  people  are  apt  to  form  rasTi  and  hasty  judg- 
ments ;  to  imagine  they  know  all,  when  in  fact  they 
know  only  a  part.  It  would  teach  them  a  becoming 
caution  in  forming,  and  a  becoming  modesty  in  ex- 
pressing opinions,  if,  in  the  course  of  their  studies, 
the  subjects  of  dispute  were  frankly  pointed  out 
to  them,  and  the  reasons  for  doubts  explained, — if 
they  considered  the  numerous  points  on  which  wise, 
and  learned,  and  good  men  have  found  it  most  diffi- 
cult to  decide,  and  after  all  differ  from  each  other. 
The  character  and  many  events  of  the  life  of  Mary 
Stuart  are  among  these  disputed  points  She  has 
had  determined,  able,  and  conscientious  adversaries  ; 
she  has  found  enthusiastic,  accomplished,  and  equally 
conscientious  defenders ;  and  since  in  this  little 
work  no  part  of  the  testimony  for  or  against  her 
can  be  properly  introduced,  every  controverted  point 
will  at  least  be  noticed  as  such  in  its  place.  Those 
who  may  not  have  time  or  opportunity  to  consider 
the  \vorks  written  on  both  sides  of  the  question 
should  keep  their  opinions  for  the  present  suspended. 
Let  them  not  permit  their  compassion  for  unexam- 
pled misfortunes,  nor  their  admiration  for  acknow- 
ledged accomplishments,  to  bias  them  on  one  side  ; 
nor  their  natural  horror  for  imputed  crimes,  and  re- 
spect for  great  names,  to  incline  them  on  the  other. 
For  this  is  not  like  some  of  the  disputes  which  have 
distracted  antiquaries  and  divided  the  literary  world ; 
it  is  not  as  to  whether  a  battle  was  fought  on  this 
spot  or  that  spot,  whether  an  event  occurred  in  this 
or  that  year ;  it  is  a  question  of  justice  or  injustice. 
When  Dr.  Robertson  says  that  "  Humanity  will  draw 
a  veil  over  such  parts  of  Mary's  conduct  as  we  can- 
not approve," — meaning,  we  presume,  over  her  pro- 
fligate attachment  to  Bothwell,  and  the  murder  of 
the  husband  of  her  youth,  of  which  he  believes  her 
guilty, — it  may  be  answered,  that  Humanity  will 


MARY   QUEEN    OF    SCOTS.  173 

\iraw  no  such  veil,  and  ought  not ;  the  dead,  who  aie 
insensible  to  our  pity  and  our  tears,  ought  at  least  to 
have  justice  at  our  hands  for  the  sake  of  the  living. 

The  parallel  which  in  Mary's  own  time,  or  at  least 
immediately  after  her  death,  was  drawn  between  her 
and  Joanna  of  Naples,*  presents  so  many  curious 
coincidences,  and  so  many  striking  points  of  com- 
parison, that  it  shall  be  examined  hereafter,  though 
not  exactly  in  the  spirit  of  the  original  author,  who 
appears  to  have  been  bitterly  pr»ejudiced  against  both 
queens.  We  must  first,  however,  cast  a  glance  over 
the  principal  events  of  Mary's  life  and  reign,  and  re- 
call the  most  striking  parts  of  her  character,  whether 
founded  in  nature,  or  springing  from  education  and 
external  circumstances. 

Mary  Stun  it.  Queen  of  Scotland,  was  born  in  the 
palace  of  Liidithgow  on  the  7th  of  December,  1542. 
Her  father  James  V.  was  a  brave,  handsome,  gallant, 
and  accomplished  prince ;  her  mother  was  Mary  of 
Guise,  sister  of  the  celebrated  Due  de  Guise,  and 
widow  of  the  Due  de  Longueville  ;  she  was  a  woman 
who  in  private  life  was  without  blame,  universally 
respected  for  her  wisdom  and  talents,  her  justice, 
her  piety,  and  her  humanity.  She  had,  however, 
the  high  spirit  and  the  passion  for  political  power 
which  characterized  the  family  of  Guise,  and  she 
lived  and  died  in  the  midst  of  troubles  which  she 
could  not  appease,  and  in  the  midst  of  factions  which 
she  could  not  reconcile. 

Mary  was  only  seven  days  old  when  her  father 
died,  and  within  ten  months  afterward  she  was 
solemnly  crowned  at  Stirling  by  Cardinal  Beaton, 
and  proclaimed  Queen  of  Scotland.  James  Hamil- 
ton Earl  of  Arran  was  appointed  regent  of  the  king- 
dom during  her  minority  ;  but  the  principal  care  of 

*  In  a  work  entitled  "  L'apologie  ou  defense  de  I'honorable  sentence 
et  tres    juste  execution  de   defftmcte  Marie  Sluard,  derniere  Regne 
(VE<;osse,"  published  in  England  for  the  purpose  of  being  distributed 
abroiia,  and  quoted  by  Brantome  in  his  Life  of  Joanna. 
I.— -^ 


174  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

the  young  queen  was  left  to  her  mother,  who  watched 
over  her  infancy  with  truly  maternal  anxiety.  A 
very  short  time  after  her  birth  a  design  was  formed 
to  match  her  with  young  Edvv-ard  VI.  of  England, 
then  Prince  of  Wales.  It  was  a  favourite  obiect 
with  Henry  VIII.  thus  to  unite  the  two  kingdoms, 
and  he  brought  over  the  regent  to  his  views ;  but  the 
queen-mother  and  Cardinal  Beaton,  supported  by 
many  of  the  nobles,  strongly  opposed  a  measure 
which  would  render  Scotland  a  mere  province  of 
England,  endanger  the  Roman  Catholic  religion, 
and  embroil  the  country  with  France,  tlieir  ancient 
friend  and  ally.  Arran  was  obliged  to  yield  to  these 
representations ;  the  treaty  of  marriage  was  broken 
off,  and  the  consequence  was  a  destructive  war,  in 
which  the  Scotch  w^ere  defeated  at  the  battle  of 
Pinkie  with  the  loss  of  8000  men,  and  many  towns 
and  villages  were  ravaged  and  pillaged  by  the  English 
invaders. 

At  this  time  Mary  resided  at  Stirling  castle,  under 
the  guardianship  of  Lord  Erskine  and  Lord  Living- 
stone ;  thence  she  was  removed,  when  about  four 
years  old,  to  Inchmahone,  a  little  island  on  the  lake 
of  Monte ith.  Her  mother  selected  four  young  ladies 
of  rank  of  her  own  age  to  be  the  companions  of  her 
studies  and  her  playmates  in  this  solitude  :  they  all 
bore  the  same  name,  and  were  afterward  called  "  the 
Queen's  Maries."  They  were  Mary  Beaton,  Mary 
Seyton,  Mary  Fleming,  and  M^ir}'^  Livingstone  ;  they 
are  thus  alluded  to  in  an  old  ballad  : 

"  Last  night  the  queen  had  four  Maries, 
To-night  she'll  hae  but  three  ; — 
There  was  Mary  Seyton,  and  Mary  Beaton, 
And  Mary  Livingstone,  and  me .'" 

Who  me  was  is  not  known;  for  as  the  four  original 
Maries,  ane  by  one,  married  and  left  her  service,  the 
queen  replaced  them  with  new  ones  of  the  same 
name,  and  seems  to  have  pleased  herself  with  the 


MARY  QUEEN  OF  SCOTS.  175 

fancy  of  having  four  Maries  always  in  attendance 
upon  her. 

The  result  of  the  disputes  with  England  was  a  new 
and  closer  alliance  with  France,  which  materially 
changed  the  destiny  of  the  young  queen.  A  treaty 
of  marriage  was  concluded  between  her  and  the  in- 
fant Dauphin,  Francis,  the  son  of  Henry  the  Second. 
By  this  treaty  it  was  agreed  that  Mary  should  be 
sent  to  France,  placed  under  the  care  of  the  French 
king,  and  educated  in  his  court ;  and  Henry  was  to 
send  an  army  of  6000  men  to  aid  the  Scotch  against 
the  English.  The  articles  of  this  treaty  were  duly 
performed  on  both  sides;  and  the  same  vessels  which 
brought  over  the  French  troops  conveyed  Mary  from 
her  native  shore. 

In  July,  1548,  she  sailed  from  Dumbarton,  accom- 
panied by  her  guardians,  her  four  Maries,  and  other 
attendants,  landed  at  Brest,  and  proceeded  to  Pari? 
where  she  was  received  as  became  the  Queen  cf 
Scotland  and  the  destined  Queen  of  France.     Of  the 
education  which  Mary  received  at  the  French  court 
it  is  necessary  to  say  a  few  words,  because  it  must, 
by  influencing  her  character,  have  greatly  influenced 
her  fate.     She  w^as  only  five  years  old  when  she 
arrived  there,  and  spent  thirteen  happy  years  in  that 
country.     She  was  first  sent  to  a  convent  with  the 
king's  daughters,  where  she  made  a  rapid  progress 
in  all  the  accomplishments  they  attempted  to  teach 
her.     Here  her  enthusiastic  disposition  and  lively 
fancy  were  so  strongly  impressed  with  religious  feel- 
ings, and  she  became  so  fond  of  a  retired  life,  that 
when,  in  consequence  of  her  too  great  inchnation 
for  the  cloister,  she  was  removed  to  gayer  scenes, 
and  obliged  to  take  up  her  residence  in  a  palace,  she 
shed   torrents  of  tears.     She  afterward   made  fre- 
quent visits  to  the  young  friends  she  had  left  in  the 
convent,  and  embroidered  v/ith  her  own  hands  an 
altar-piece  for  the  chapel.     When  w^e  are  told  that 
Catherine  de  Medicis  was  at  the  head  of  -Jiat  court 


176  FEMALE  SOVEREIGNS. 

and  society  in  which  Mary's  education  was  com« 
pleted  we  shudder  at  her  very  name,  and  tremble  at 
the  idea  of  the  contagion  to  which  the  youthful 
queen  was  exposed ;  but  we  must  not  forget  that  at 
this  time  Catherine  de  Medicis  was  herself  a  very 
young  woman ;  she  was  not  long  married ; — she  had 
given  no  indication  of  those  perfidious  and  cruel  de- 
signs which  afterward  worked  in  "her  Italian  brain," 
and  have  associated  her  name  with  all  we  can  con- 
ceive of  most  detestable.  She  was  respected  for 
her  splendid  talents,  and  for  the  dignity  and  propriety 
of  her  conduct.  The  Princess  Margaret  of  France, 
her  sister-in-law,  was  a  woman  of  singular  accom- 
plishments and  virtue.  There  was  much  wickedness 
and  profligacy  in  the  court;  but  with  these  two  prin- 
cesses and  her  own  Scottish  attendants  Mary  princi- 
pally associated.  Her  governess,  Lady  Fleming, 
was  a  Scotch  w^oman,  and  her  confessor,  Reid  Bishop 
of  Orkney,  was  also  her  own  countryman.  Her 
uncle,  the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine,  undertook  to  direct 
her  studies,  and  all  her  tutors  were  celebrated  men  : 
Buchanan  taught  her  Latin;  Pasquier  instructed  her 
in  history;  and  Ronsard,  the  most  famous  of  the 
early  French  poets,  cultivated  her  taste  for  poetry. 
She  sung  and  played  on  the  lute  and  the  virginals 
(a  kind  of  spinet  or  harpsichord).  The  fashion  foi 
learning  prevailed  at  that  time  in  France,  and  Mary 
profited  by  it: — she  understood  French,  Latin,  and 
Italian  perfectly,  and  she  wrote  in  French  with  pecu- 
liar elegance  ;  she  was  well  acquainted  with  history 
and  with  classical  literature :  she  rode  on  horseback 
fearlessly,  yet  with  feminine  grace,  and  was  fond  of 
hunting.  Her  dancing  was  always  admired :  we  are 
assured,  that  "  in  the  Spanish  minuet  she  Avas  equal- 
led only  by  her  aunt,  the  beautiful  Anne  of  Este,  and 
no  lady  of  the  court  could  eclipse  her  in  the  gal- 
liarde."  Her  beauty  and  the  charming  expression 
of  her  countenance  were  such,  that  as  her  contem- 
porary Brantome  asserts,  "  no  one  could  look  upon 


MARY  QUEEN  OF  SCOTS.  177 

her  without  loving  her."  When  her  mother,  Mary 
of  Guise,  came  over  to  visit  her  in  1550,  she  burst 
into  tears  of  joy,  and  congratulated  herself  on  her 
daughter's  capacity  and  loveliness.  It  is  very  pos- 
sible that  in  tlie  midst  of  all  these  advantages,  flat- 
tery and  the  homage  of  those  around  may  have 
rendered  Mary  impatient  of  contradiction,  and  fond 
of  admiration  and  pleasure ;  neither  is  it  too  much 
to  suppose  that  her  early  initiation  into  the  French 
court  had  somewhat  blunted  in  her  mind  the  severity 
of  moral  principle.  Soon  after  Mary  of  Guise  re- 
turned to  Scotland  she  was  declared  queen-regent, 
and  under  that  name  governed  the  kingdom  till  her 
death,  in  1560. 

The  marriage  so  long  contemplated  between  Mary 
of  Scotland  and  the  dauphin  was  celebrated  on  the 
24th  of  April,  1558,  when  Mary  was  in  her  sixteenth 
year.  The  ceremony  was  performed  in  the  church 
of  Notre  Dame  by  the  Cardinal  of  Bourbon,  Arch- 
bishop of  Rouen.  "  Upon  this  occasion  the  festivi- 
ties were  graced  by  the  presence  of  all  the  most 
illustrious  personages  of  the  court  of  France ;  and 
when  Francis,  taking  a  ring  from  his  finger,  presented 
it  to  the  archbishop,  who,  pronouncing  the  benedic- 
tion, placed  it  on  the  young  queen's  finger,  the  vaulted 
roof  of  the  cathedral  rung  with  congratulations,  and 
the  multitude  without  rent  the  air  with  joyful  shouts. 
The  spectacle  was  altogether  one  of  the  most  im- 
posing which,  even  in  that  age  of  spectacles,  had 
been  seen  in  Paris.  The  procession,  upon  leaving 
the  church,  proceeded  to  the  palace  of  the  arch- 
bishop, where  a  magnificent  collation  was  prepared ; 
largess,  as  it  moved  along,  being  proclaimed  among 
the  people,  in  the  name  of  the  King  and  Queen  of 
Scots.  In  the  afternoon  the  royal  party  returned  to 
the  palace  of  the  Tournells ;  Catherine  de  Medicis 
and  Mary  sitting  in  one  palanquin,  and  a  cardinal 
walking  on  each  side.  Henry  and  Francis  followed 
on  horseback,  with  a  long  line  of  princes  and  prin- 


178  FEMALE   SOVEREIGNS. 

cesses  in  their  train.  The  chronicler  of  these  nup- 
tials is  unable  to  conceal  his  rapture  when  he  de- 
scribes the  manner  in  Avhicii  the  palace  had  been 
piepared  for  their  reception.  Its  whole  appearance, 
he  tells  us,  was  'light  and  beautiful  as  Elysium.' 
During  supper,  which  was  served  upon  a  marble 
table  in  tlie  great  hall,  the  king's  band  of  '  one  hun- 
dred gentlemen'  poured  forth  delicious  strains  of 
music.  The  members  of  parliament  attended  in  their 
robes,  and  the  princes  of  the  blood  performing  the 
part  of  servitors,  the  Duke  of  Guise  acting  as  master 
of  the  ceremonies.  The  banquet  being  concluded,  a 
series  of  the  most  magnificent  masks  and  mumme- 
ries, prepared  for  the  occasion,  was  introduced.  In 
the  pageant  twelve  artificial  horses  of  admirable 
mechanism,  covered  with  cloth  of  gold,  and  ridden 
by  the  young  heirs  of  noble  houses,  attracted  de- 
served attention.  They  were  succeeded  by  six  gal- 
leys, which  sailed  into  the  hall,  each  rich  as  Cleopa- 
tra's barge,  and  bearing  on  its  deck  two  seats,  the 
one  filled  by  a  young  cavalier  who,  as  he  advanced, 
carried  off  from  among  the  spectators,  and  gently 
placed  in  the  vacant  chair,  the  lady  of  his  love.  A 
splendid  tournament  concluded  these  rejoicings."* 

Francis  was  far  inferior  to  his  young  bride  both 
in  person  and  in  mind,  and  is  described  as  being  of 
a  sickly  constitution,  and  of  a  shy,  timid,  reserved, 
but  affectionate  and  kind  disposition.  They  were 
fond  of  each  othet,  for  they  had  been  brought  up 
together  from  infancy,  with  a  know^ledge  that  they 
were  destined  to  pass  their  lives  together.  Francis 
did  not  survive  his  marriage  more  than  two  years, 
and  during  that  time  Mary  treated  him  with  invari<i- 
ble  tenderness  and  respectful  attention.  At  this 
period  of  her  life,  Mary  was  distinguished  by  the 
title  of  "  La  Reine  Dauphine." 

Soon  after  the  celebration   of  Mary's   nuptials, 

*  Life  of  Man-  Queen  of  Scots  Familv  Library.  No.  XXI. 


MARY  QUEEN  OF  SCOTS.  179 

Queen  Elizabeth  ascended  the  Enghsh  throne  ;  being 
a  Protestant,  the  See  of  Rome  and  the  French  and 
Spanish  courts  refused  to  acknowledge  her ;  and 
Mar}',  being  indisputably  the  next  heir,  was  per- 
suaded, or  ratlier  was  commanded  by  the  King  of 
France,  her  father-in-law,  and  the  Guises,  her  uncles, 
to  assume  the  title  and  arms  of  Queen  of  England.  A 
fatal  mistake,  of  which  she  could  not  then  calculate 
the  consequences,  but  which,  by  first  arousing  the 
jealousy  and  hatred  of  Elizabeth,  led  the  way  to 
her  own  destruction. 

In  July,  1559,  the  dauphin  succeeded  to  the  throne, 
by  the  death  of  his  father,  Henry  II.  (who  was  ac- 
cidentally killed  in  a  tournament),  and  in  the  Sep- 
tember following,  Francis  and  Mary  were  solenmly 
crowned  at  Rheims,  King  and  Queen  of  France. 
But  the  health  of  the  young  king  was  already  rap- 
idly declining,  and  in  a  few  months  afterward  he 
expired  at  Orleans,  whither  he  had  been  carried  for 
the  benefit  of  the  air.  Almost  the  last  words  he 
spoke  were  expressions  of  tenderness  and  confi- 
dence towards  his  queen,  whom  he  earnestly  recom- 
mended to  the  care  of  his  mother  and  his  brother. 
Francis  was  in  his  eighteenth  year  when  he  died, 
after  a  reign  of  about  a  year  and  a  half.  Mary  is 
described  by  an  eyewitness  as  a  "  sorrowful  widow," 
and  appears  to  have  lamented  her  husband  very  sin- 
cerely ;  indeed,  without  attributijig  to  her  any  very 
passionate  regard  for  her  boyish  consort,  she  could 
not  be  insensible  to  the  loss  of  one  who  had  loved 
her  from  infancy,  and  by  whose  death  she  was  eft. 
to  feel  herself  a  stranger  and  an  intruder  in  the  land 
which  had  been  the  scene  of  her  youthful  happiness  ; 
of  which  she  had  been  the  crowned  queen.  Cathe- 
rine de  Medicis,  intent  upon  her  own  ambitious  pro- 
jects, now  viewed  her  with  "jealous  leer  malign  :" 
Mary  had,  in  early  life,  wounded  the  vanity  of  Cathe- 
rine by  once  boasting  of  her  own  descent  from  a 
**  hundred  kings,"  which  was  supposed  to  reflect 


180  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

upon  Catherine's  descent  from  a  family  of  Floren 
tine  merchants  (the  Medici).  This  oftence,  probably 
unintentional,  had  rankled  in  Catherine's  vindictive 
mind.  Mary's  uncles,  the  princes  of  the  house  of 
Guise,  had  been  banished  from  court :  all  things  w^ere 
changed  around  her.  In  this  situation  she  formed 
the  resolution  of  returning  to  her  native  kingdom, 
but  it  was  a  resolution  made  with  regret  and  exe- 
cuted with  reluctance. 

The  heads  of  the  reformed  party  in  Scotland,  or,  as 
they  were  called,  the  "  Lords  of  the  Congregation,'* 
had  entered  into  a  treaty  of  peace  with  Queen  Eliz 
abeth, — "  the  treaty  of  Edinburgh,"  as  it  is  called  in 
history  ;  and  when  this  was  sent  over  to  Mary  to  be 
ratified  by  her,  she  found  that  by  the  sixth  article 
she  Avas  bound  to  resign  all  right  and  title  to  the 
throne  of  England  "  for  ever,"  an-d  she  absolutely 
refused  to  subscribe  to  a  condition  which  appeared 
to  her  so  unjust  and  so  degrading.  After  much  re- 
luctance and  hesitation,  she  at  length  expressed  her- 
self content  to  resign  all  title  to  the  English  crown 
as  long  as  Elizabeth  or  her  heirs  existed;  but  since 
she  was  by  birth  and  by  law,  and  in  the  eyes  of  all 
Europe,  the  next  heir,  she  would  not  consent  to 
sign  away  her  unalienable  rights,  and  at  the  same 
time  those  of  her  posterity.  Elizabeth  commanded 
Nicholas  Throckmorton,  her  ambassador  in  France, 
to  wait  on  the  Scottish  queen,  and  press  upon  her 
the  expediency  of  ratifying  this  treaty.  But  Mary 
was  firm,  although  her  firmness  was  tempered  with 
courtesy  and  gentleness.  "Though  the  terms," 
said  she,  alluding  to  the  late  Avars  between  the  two 
countries,  "  wherein  we  have  stood  heretofore  have 
been  somewhat  hard,  yet  I  trust  that  from  hence 
forth  we  shall  accord  together  as  cousins  and  good 
neighbours.  I  mean  to  retire  all  the  Frenchmen 
from  Scotland  who  have  given  jealousy  to  the  queen 
my  sister,  and  miscontent  to  my  subjects ;  so  that  I 
will  leave  nothing  undone  to  satisfy  all  parties  trust- 


MARY  QUEEN    OF    SCOTS.  181 

tng  the  queen,  my  good  sister,  will  do  the  like,  and 
that  from  henceforth  none  of  my  disobedient  sub- 
jects shall  find  aid  or  support  at  her  hands."   Throck- 
morton wished  to  discover  whether  she  intended  to 
pursue  any  violent  measures  with  regard  to  the  Scot- 
tish Protestants,  who  were  inclined  at  once  to  dread 
and  to  contemn  their  Roman  Catholic  queen.     The 
spirit,  intelligence,  and  firmness  of  Mary's  reply  ap- 
pear extraordinary  in  a  girl  of  eighteen;  but  her 
words  are  repeated  by  Throckmorton  himself,  who 
was  httle  inclined  to  favour  her.     "  I  will  be  pkin 
with  you,"  said  she ;  "  the  rehgion  I  profess  I  take 
to  be  the  most  acceptable  to  God;  and,  indeed,  I 
neither  know  nor  desire  to  know  any  other.     Con- 
stancy becometh  all  people  w^ell,  but  none  better 
than  princes,  and  such  as  have  rule  over  realms,  and 
especially  in  matters  of  rehgion.  I  have  been  brought 
up  in  this  religion,  and  who  might  credit  me  in  any 
thing  if  I  should  show  myself  light  in  this  case  ?     I 
am  none  of  those  that  will  change  their  religion 
every  year;  but  I  mean  to  constrain  none  of  my 
subjects,  though  I  could  wish  that  they  were  ail  as 
I  am;  and  I  trust  they  shall  have  no  support  to  con- 
strain me."     Mary  had  sent  to  demand  of  Elizabeth 
a  free  passage  to  her  own  country ;  it  was  a  mere 
point  of  courtesy  and  etiquette  usual  between  one 
sovereign   and   another,  but   it   was   refused;  and 
Throckmorton,  in  another  conference,  attempted  to 
explain  the  reason  of  this  refusal,  again  referring  to 
the  treaty  of  Edinburgh  to  justify  his  mistress,  whose 
conduct  on  this  occasion,  arising  from  exasperation 
and  jealousy,  w^as  inexcusable  and  mean,  as  well  as 
discourteous.     Mary  replied  to  the  representations 
of  the  ambassador  with  infinite  dignity  and  spirit. 
*  There  is  nothing  that  doth  more  grieve  me  than 
that  I  did  so  forget  myself  as  to  require  of  the  queen, 
your  mistress,  that  favour  which  I  had  no  need  t<» 
ask.     I  may  pass  well  enough  home  to  mine  own 
realm,  I  think,  without  her  passport  or  license ;  for 
I— L> 


182  ■  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

though  the  late  king,  your  master,  used  all  the  im- 
peachment he  could  both  to  stay  me  and  catch  me 
when  I  came  hither,  yet  you  know,  Monsieur  I'Am- 
bassadeur,  I  came  hither  safely,  and  I  may  have  as 
good  means  to  help  me  home  again.  It  seemeth 
that  the  queen,  your  mistress,  maketh  more  account 
of  my  disobedient  subjects  than  she  doth  of  me, 
their  sovereign,  who  am  her  equal  in  degree,  though 
inferior  in  wisdom  and  experience,  her  nighest  kins- 
woman, and  her  next  neighbour."  She  repeated  hef 
refusal  to  subscribe  to  the  treaty  of  Edinburgh,  and 
gave  her  reasons  in  the  most  forcible,  but  at  the  same 
time  the  most  courteous,  terms ;  denying  all  inten- 
tion to  wrong  or  offend  Ehzabeth,  and  amply  apolo*- 
gizing  for  the  assumption  of  the  crown  and  arms  of 
England  during  the  life  of  her  late  husband  ;  she  re- 
minded the  ambassador  that  since  that  time  she  had 
neither  borne  the  arms  nor  used  the  title  of  Eng- 
land. "Methinks,"  she  said,  "these  my  doings  might 
ascertain  the  queen,  your  mistress,  that  what  was 
done  before  was  done  by  commandment  of  them 
that  had  power  over  me ;  and  also,  in  reason,  she 
ought  to  be  satisfied,  seeing  I  now  order  my  doings 
as  I  tell  you."  But  Elizabeth  was  neither  to  be  paci- 
fied nor  satisfied.  When  Mary  embarked  at  Calais 
in  August,  1561,  vv'ith  a  cortege  of  noble  and  distin- 
guished persons  (among  whom  were  three  of  her 
uncles,  the  Duke  d'Anville,  son  to  the  constable 
Montmorenci,  the  historian  Brantome,  and  the  poet 
Chatelard,her  four  Maries,  from  whom  she  had  never 
been  separated,  and  several  French  ladies  of  distinc- 
tion), Elizabeth  sent  out  vessels  to  intercept  her 
but  she  passed  them  in  a  thick  fog,  and  thus  escaped 
The  grief,  almost  desi)air,  with  which  Mary  took 
leave  of  her  adopted  country  is  well  known.  She 
stood  upon  the  deck,  gazing  through  her  tears  on 
the  fast  receding  shore,  and  when  night  came  on 
she  caused  a  couch  to  be  spread  for  her  on  the  deck, 
and  wept  herself  to  sleep.    "  I  am  s«  far  unlike  the 


MARY  QUEEN    OF    SCOTS.  183 

Giirfcliaginian  Dido,"  said  Mary  on  this  occasion, 
"  that  she  looked  perpetually  on  the  sea  when  j^neas 
departed,  while  all  my  regards  are  for  the  land."* 

jNIary  landed  in  Scotland  on  the  20th  of  August, 
and  when  we  consider  the  distracted  state  of  the 
country,  and  the  characters  of  tliose  with  whom 
she  was  henceforth  to  be  surrounded,  we  may  easily 
excuse  the  sensations  of  terror  and  sadness  with 
which  she  approached  her  capital.  The  poverty 
of  the  country  struck  her,  who  had  so  lately  left 
the  fertile  plains  of  France,  with  a  feeling  of  disap- 
pointment. The  weather  was  wet  and  "dolorous;" 
and  a  serenade  of  bagpipes  with  which  the  populace 
hailed  her  seems  to  have  greatly  disconcerted  her 
polished  attendants  ;  but  Mary  took  every  thing  in 
good  part,  and  after  a  while  she  so  far  recovered 

*  The  scene  is  thus  described,  with  the  most  picturesque  naivete, 
by  IJrantnme,  who  was  present: — "Elle,  sans  songer  d  autre  action, 
s'appuye  les  deux  bras  sur  la  pcups  de  la  galf^re  du  c6te  du  tiinon,  et  se 
mic  A  foudre  en  grosses  larmes,  jettant  toujours  ses  beaux  yeux  sur  le 
port  et  le  lieu  d'o5  elle  etait  partie,  prononqaiit  toujours  ces  tristes  pa- 
roles : — 'Adieu,  France!  adieu,  France  I'  lesrepetant  A  chaquecoup;  et 
lui  dura  cet  exercise  dolent  pres  de  cinq  heures  jusques  qu'il  commenca 
d  lliire  nuit,  et  qu'on  lui  demanda  si  elle  ne  se  voulait  point  6ter  de  la 
et  souper  un  peu.     Alors  redoublarit  ses  pleurs  plus  que  jamais,  dit  ces 
mots  :— '  C'est  bien  i  cette  heure,  ma  chere  France,  que  je  vous  perds 
du  lout  de  vue,  puisque  la  nuit  obscure,  et  jalouse  du  contentement  de 
vous  voir  tant  que  j'eusse  pu,  ni'appone  un  voile  noir  devant  les  yeux, 
pour  me  priver  d'un  tel  bien.     Adieu,  done,  ma  chere  France  I  que  je 
perds  du  tout  de  vue :  je  ne  vous  verrai  jamais  plus.'    Ainsi  se  retira, 
disant  qu'elle  avail  fait  tout  le  coiitraire  de  Didon,  qui  ne  fit  que  regarder 
la  mer,  quand  Enee  se  departit  d'avec  elle,  et  elle  regardait  toujours  la 
terre.     Elle  voulut  se  coucher  sans  avoir  mange,  et  ne  voulut  descendre 
en  has  dans  la  chambre  de  poupe,  mais  on  lui  fit  dresser  la  traverse  de 
la  galere  en  haut  de  la  poupe,  et  lui  dresser  son  lit.    Et  reposant  un  peu 
n'oubliant  nullement  ses  soupirs  et  larme.s,  elle  commanda  au  timounier* 
8it6t  qu'il  serait  jour,  s'll  voyail  et  decouvrait  encore  le  terrain  de  la 
France,  qu'il  I'eveillait  et  ne  craignit  de  I'appeller,  a  quoi  la  fortune  la 
favorisa  ;  car  le  vent  s'etant  cesse  et  ayant  recours  aux  rames,  on  ne  fit 
gueres  de  chemin  cette  nuit ;  si  bien  que  le  jourparaissant.  parut  encore 
le  terrain  de  la  France,  et  n'ayant  failli  le  timonnier  au  conimandement 
qu'elle  lui  avait  fait,  elle  se  leve  sur  son  lit  et  se  mit  A  contempler  la 
Fra-nce  encore  tant  qu'elle  pent.    Mais  la  galere  s'eloignant,  elle  61oignait 
son  conlenfement,  et  ne  vit  plus  son  beau  terrain.     Adonc  redoubla  en- 
core ces  mots  :— '  Adieu,  France,  cela  est  fait ;  adieu,  la  France  I  ie  pense 
ae  vous  voir  jamais  plus!'"  -   h  «»"«» 


184  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

her  gayety,  that  the  masks  and  dancing,  "  llio 
fiddUng"  and  "  uncomely  skipping,"  she  introduced 
into  Holyrood  House,  gave  great  offence  to  John 
Knox,  and  the  rest  of  the  grave  Reformers ;  though 
they  might  have  been  forgiven,  one  would  think,  to 
a  young  and  beautiful  queen  who  was  "  brought  up 
in  joyousness." 

Mary  was  warmly  attached  to  her  own  religion : 
the  truth  and  excellence  of  the  reformed  doctrines 
were  not  understood  or  appreciated  by  her ;  she 
was  shocked  by  the  sacrilegious  destruction  of  th6 
ancient  cathedrals  and  monasteries,  and  disgusted 
by  the  excessive  austerity  of  the  Presbyterians  ; 
she  yielded,  however,  to  what  she  could  not  help, 
and  her  conduct  in  this  respect  is  one  of  the  disputed 
points  already  alluded  to.  Some  historians  assert, 
that  Mary  merely  endured  the  ascendency  of  the 
reformed  part)^,  with  the  secret  intention  of  crushing 
it  the  moment  she  had  the  power  to  do  so,  and  ex- 
terminating those  who  adhered  to  it.  Others,  ap- 
pealing to  the  moderation  she  had  already  expressed, 
and  to  the  natural  kindliness  of  her  disposition,  deny 
the  truth  of  this  accusation. 

The  leading  men  in  Scotland  at  this  time  were, 
Mary's  natural  brother,  the  Lord  .Tames  Stuart, 
afterward  t]ie  Earl  of  IMurray,  a  very  able  and  ac- 
complished man,  but  artful,  ambitious,  and  devoted 
to  the  English  interests ;  the  Earl  of  Morton,  who 
was  of  a  cruel,  rapacious,  and  factious  disposition ; 
Sir  William  Maitland  of  Letliington,  the  secretary 
of  state,  a  learned  man  and  profound  politician 
these  were  of  the  reformed  persuasion.  At  the 
head  of  the  Roman  Catholics  were  Gordon  Earl  of 
Huntley,  Hamilton  Duke  of  Chatelherault,  and  his 
son  the  Earl  of  Arran.  But  the  principal  guidance 
of  affairs  rested  with  the  Earl  of  Murray,  to  whom 
Mary,  in  the  commencement  of  her  reign,  trusted 
implicilly :  the  chief  power  was  possessed  by  the 
Reformers,  and  most  of  the  members  of  the  privy 


MARY    QUEEN    OF    SCOTS.  18^ 

council  were  Protestants.  Bothvvell,  who  became 
afterward  so  fatally  conspicuous,  was  at  this  time 
regarded  as  a  powerful  nobleman,  retaining  the 
offices  he  held  under  the  former  government,  but 
not  yet  regarded  with  favour  in  the  court  of  Mary : 
he  was  a  daring  and  violent  man,  as  wicked  as  he 
was  daring,  as  crafty  as  he  was  violent;  coarse 
and  brutal  in  his  manners,  and  described  by  a  con- 
temporary as  one  of  the  ugliest  men  in  existence. 
Among  the  foreign  princes  who  at  this  time  solicited 
the  hand  of  the  Queen  of  Scots  were  Don  Carlos, 
the  son  of  Philip  the  Second,  the  Archduke  Charles 
of  Austria,  and  the  Prince  de  Conde  :  but  Mary  was 
not  inclined  to  marriage  ;  she  was  well  aware  that  a 
foreign  alliance  would  be  impolitic,  displeasing  to 
her  people,  and  offensive  to  Elizabeth.  Among  her 
suitors  at  home  were  the  Earl  of  Arran  and  Sir 
John  Gordon,  but  neither  of  these  were  fortunate 
enough  to  win  her  favour ;  though  Sir  John  Gordon 
(who  of  all  her  lovers  is  the  only  one  who  is  sup- 
posed to  have  been  attached  to  Mary  for  her  own 
sake)  certainly  captivated  her  attention,  and,  but 
for  the  interference  of  Murray,  might  possibly  have 
won  her  heart. 

It  is  observable  that  all  the  events  of  Mary's 
reign  were  of  a  domestic  nature ;  she  carried  on  no 
foreign  wars,  nor  did  she  interfere  with  the  affairs 
of  other  countries.  Her  personal  and  her  political 
history  are  the  same,  and  cannot  be  considered 
separately,  as  in  the  case  of  many  other  princes. 

The  first  occurrence  of  any  importance  after 
Mary's  return  from  France,  was  her  expedition  to 
the  north,  to  put  down  the  power  of  the  Gordons ; 
a  powerful  and  warlike  clan,  who  had  risen  against 
the  crown,  or,  at  least,  were  suspected  of  hostile 
and  treasonable  intentions.  The  queen's  brother, 
Lord  Murray,  had  his  own  reasons  for  being  a 
personal  enemy  of  the  Gordons :  Mary,  who  con- 
fided in  his  superior  age  and  experience,  perceived 


186  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

his  acknowled2:ed  abilities,  and  had  at  present  no 
reason  to  doubt  his  integrity  or  his  devotion  to  her, 
left  the  management  of  tliis  afiair  to  him.  She 
herself  marched  on  horseback  at  the  head  of  her 
troops,  and  displayed  great  spirit  and  intrepidity.  A 
battle  was  fought  at  Corrachie  near  Aberdeen,  be- 
tvv^een  Alurray  and  the  Earl  of  Huntley,  the  chief 
of  the  Gordons,  in  v)hich  Huntley  was  defeated. 
On  beholding  the  destruction  of  his  clan  and  family 
the  unfortunate  earl  fell  dead  from  his  horse  with- 
out a  wound ;  and  his  son,  Sir  John  Gordon,  Mary's 
rejected  lover,  was  taken  prisoner,  tried,  condemned, 
and  executed  at  Aberdeen.  Murray  insisted  that 
the  queen  should  be  present  at  this  execution,  as  a 
measure  of  policy,  and  that  the  public  might  be 
convinced  that  she  gave  her  countenance  to  all 
these  proceedings.  The  j'oung  queen  yielded  most 
reluctantly,  but  being  brought  to  the  window  op- 
posite to  the  scaffold,  she  fainted  away,  and  could 
not  for  some  time  be  recovered.  The  eldest  brother 
of  Sir  John  Gordon  was  also  taken  prisoner,  and 
found  guilty ;  but  Mary,  perhaps  remembering  this 
terrible  scene,  could  never  be  persuaded  to  sign  his 
death-warrant,  and  some  time  afterward  he  was 
restored  to  favour.  The  court  returned  to  Edinburgh 
on  the  22d  of  November,  1562,  after  an  absence  of 
three  months,  during  which  time  the  queen  visited 
all  the  principal  tov/ns  and  castles  to  the  north  of 
her  capital. 

Poor  Chatelard,  a  half-mad  poet  of  that  time, 
was  executed  for  treason  in  the  beginning  of  the 
year  1563.  As  his  name  has  become  celebrated 
from  being  associated  with  that  of  IMary,  I  shall 
add  the  account  of  him  from  Chalmers.  "  When 
the  queen  arrived  from  France,  there  came  in  the 
train  of  Monsieur  D'Anville,*  one  Chatelard,  a  gen- 
tleman by  birth,  a  soldier  by  profession,  a  scholar 

"  The  Due  D'Anville  was  second  son  of  the  famous  constable  Anne 
MoDtiTiorciici.  and  one  of  Mary's  most  ardent  tiilinirers. 


Mary  queen  of  scots.  187 

from  education,  and  a  poet  by  choice.*  He  returned 
with  D'Anville  to  Francs,  after  enjoying  from  the 
rank  of  his  protector  the  various  amusements  of 
lilary's  court.  In  November,  1562,  he  again  visited 
Scotland,  bringing  letters  from  D'Anville  and  others 
to  Uie  queen.  It  is  supposed  that  the  duke  employed 
him  as  the  interpreter  of  his  passion  for  Mary,  but 
that  Chatelard  was  mad  enough  to  entertain  hopes 
for  himself,  upon  what  grounds  we  cannot  now 
judge."  He  proceeded  the  full  length,  on  the  12th 
of  February,  1563,  of  concealing  himself  in  the 
queen's  bed-chamber,  v/ith  his  sword  and  dagger 
beside  him.  He  was  discovered,  but  the  fact  was 
concealed  from  the  queen  by  her  female  attendants, 
from  prudential  motives,  till  the  morning;  on  being 
made  acquainted  with  this  piece  of  temerity,  the 
queen  commanded  Chatelard  out  of  her  sight,  and 
banished  him  from  the  court.  The  queen,  with  a 
part  of  her  train,  left  Edinburgh  on  the  13th,  and 
slept  at  Dunfermling;  on  the  14th  she  proceeded  to 
Burnt  Island,  where  she  slept.  Havmg  retired  to 
her  chamber,  Chatelard  followed  her  thither,  and 
suddenly  presented  himself  before  her,  to  clear 
himself,  as  he  said,  from  the  former  irnputation. 
She  ordered  him  to  be  gone ;  he  refused ;  and,  as- 
tonished at  his  audacity,  the  queen  herself  was 
fain  to  cry  out  for  help.  "The  Earl  of  Murray 
was  sent  for,  when  the  queen  in  her  agitation  and 
terror  called  out  to  him  to  defend  her,  and  strike  his 
dagger  into  the  intruder ;  but  Murray  thought  proper 
to  send  him  to  ward,  reserving  this  daring  or  in- 
fatuated miscreant  to  the  due  course  of  the  law, 
which  would  lay  open  the  whole  transaction."  He 
was  tried  at  St.  Andrew's,  condemned  to  death,  and 
executed  on  the  22d  of  Februar}^  He  refused  to 
avail  himself  of  any  minister  or  confessor,  but 
having  read  aloud  Ronsard's   hyn.u  on  Death,  he 

*  AccorJiiijr  to  nranfotne.  CtiPtfi.Td  w^s  the  g«-!i"d  nephf'W'  ^    tb» 


188  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS 

turned  towards  the  palace,  and  exclaimed,  "Adieu ! 
la  plus  belle  et  la  plus  cruelle  princesse  du  monde  !" 
he  then  quietly  submitted  to  the  stroke  of  the  exe- 
cutioner. As  his  crimes  arose  from  a  heated  ima- 
gination, and  a  too  daring  admiration  of  the  queen, 
we  may  wish  that  Mary  had  extended  her  mercy  to 
him,  or  could  have  done  so  without  drawing  suS' 
picion  on  herself. 

It  was  at  this  time  David  Rizzio  first  rose  into 
notice  and  favour;  he  had  arrived  in  1561,  in  the 
train  of  the  ambassador  of  Savoy ;  the  three  pages, 
or  songsters,  who  used  to  sing  trios  before  Mary, 
wanted  a  fourth  as  a  bass,  and  Rizzio  was  recom- 
mended and  appointed.  Being  not  only  the  most 
scientific  musician  in  the  household,  but  likewise  a 
good  penman,  well  acquainted  with  French  and 
Italian,  supple  and  intelligent,  Rizzio  contrived  to 
make  himself  generally  useful,  and  was  appointed 
French  secretary  to  Queen  Mary  in  1564,  which 
office  he  retained  till  his  death. 

The  next  important  event  was  Mary's  marriage^ 
in  1565.  Two  years  had  passed  away  in  tranquillity, 
during  which  Mary  had  exerted  herself  to  win  the 
affection. of  her  subjects  and  propitiate  the  re- 
formers. John  Knox,  whose  piety  and  integrity 
were  unquestionable,  but  whose  zeal  was  rather 
violent,  and  betrayed  at  times  both  his  judgment 
and  his  feehng  as  a  man,  treated  her  sometimes 
with  severity,  and  confesses  that  he  once  made  her 
weep  "  so  that  they  could  scarce  get  handkerchiefs 
to  hold  her  eyes  dry,"  by  the  bitterness  and  insolence 
of  his  reprimands.*  But  on  the  whole,  the  two  or 
three  years  previous  to  her  marriage  may  be  con- 
sidered prosperous  and  happy.     She  gave  four  or 

*  Even  on  Tier  first  arrival  in  Scotland,  and  before  she  could  have 
given  any  real  or  pretended  cause  of  offence  asrainst  his  party,  Knox,  as 
•we  are  told,  "  did  knock  so  hastily  upon  her  heart,  that  he  jnade  her  to 
■weep;'"  but,  adds  the  writer  (Randolph),  "JVcre  be  some  of  her  sex 
that  will  do  that  as  well  for  anger  as  for  §  ;-jj"  Maryi  tears  might 
well  hnvf  spj  uiig  from  both 


MARV  QUEEN  OF  SCOTS.         189 

five  hours  every  clay  to  state  affairs :  she  was  ac- 
customed to  have  her  embroidery-frame  placed  in 
the  room  where  her  privy  council  met,  and  while 
she  plied  her  needle  she  listened  to  the  discussions 
of  her  ministers,  displaying,  in  her  opinions  and 
suggestions,  a  vigour  of  mind  and  a  quickness  of 
perception  which  astonished  the  statesmen  around 
her;  at  other  times  she  applied  herself  to  hterature, 
particularly  poetry  and  history.  She  brought  a 
great  many  books  with  her  to  Scotland;  and  the 
first  artificial  globes  that  had  ever  been  seen  there 
were  in  her  librar}^  She  w^as  exceedingly  fond  of 
music,  and  entertained  a  band  of  minstrels,  whom 
she  paid  generously.  Her  other  amusements  were 
dancing,  hunting,  and  hawking,  and  she  was  fond  of 
walking  much  in  the  open  air.  A  love  of  gardening 
was  one  of  her  favourite  pursuits.  She  had  brought 
from  France  a  little  sycamore  plant,  the  first,  accord- 
ing to  tradition,  which  had  ever  been  seen  in  Scot- 
land :  this  she  planted  in  the  gardens  of  Holyrood, 
and  from  this  parent  stem  arose  the  beautiful  groves 
of  sycamore  which  are  now  met  with  in  Scotland. 
She  did  not  encourage  tournaments,  from  a  horror 
of  accidental  bloodshed.  She  was  fond  of  playing 
at  chess,  and  excelled  in  it.  She  delighted  in 
masks,  such  as  were  the  fashion  of  that  day, 
w^hich  generally  exhibited  some  allegorical  repre- 
sentation, with  verses  and  music.  Sir  James  Mel- 
ville says,  that  "when  she  had  leisure  from  the  affairs 
of  her  country,  she  read  upon  good  books  the  his- 
tories of  divers  countries,  and  sometimes  would 
play  on  the  lute  and  tiie  virginals,  reasonably  for  a 
queen :"  he  adds,  that  "  she  was  anxious  to  know  and 
to  get  intelligence  of  the  state  of  other  countries, 
and  would  be  sometimes  sad  when  she  was  solitary, 
and  glad  of  the  company  of  them  that  had  travelled 
to  foreign  parts."  To  this  it  may  be  added,  that  she 
rose  habitually  at  eight,  supped  at  seven  (suppei 
being  then  the  principal  meal),  and  went  to  rest  a\ 


190  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

ten.  She  endeavoured  to  conciliate  Elizabeth,  and 
the  two  queens  made  a  great  exhibition  of  courtesy 
and  comphment  and  sisterly  affection  towards  eac4 
other,  thoug-h  at  the  same  time  INIary,  who  could  not 
easily  forgive  the  injurious  treatment  she  had  already 
received  from  Elizabeth,  regarded  her  with  suspicion 
and  resentment ;  and  the  English  queen  beheld  her 
beautiful  rival  with  envy,  hatred,  mahce,  and  ail  un- 
charitableness. 

Mary,  however,  paid  Elizabeth  the  compliment 
of  consulting  her  on  her  marriage.  To  choose  a 
consort  pleasing  to  herself,  agreeable  to  her  subjects, 
and  not  likely  to  give  umbrage  to  the  Queen  of  Eng- 
land, appeared  not  only  difficult,  but  impossible. 
Elizabeth  proposed  her  favourite,  Dudley  Earl  of 
Leicester,  not  without  some  intention  of  offending 
her  "  good  sister,"  but  certainly  without  any  wish 
or  any  expectation  that  the  proposal  should  be  ac- 
ceded to.  Mary  was,  in  truth,  deeply  and  justly 
affronted.  The  grandfather  of  Leicester  had  been 
one  of  the  mean  and  upstart  instruments  of  Henry 
the  Seventh's  extortion;  he  himself  was  the  minion 
of  Elizabeth,  and  his  character  universally  odious. 
Mary  refused,  of  course,  to  listen  to  him,  and  Eliza- 
beth found  something  to  object  against  every  other. 
At  length  Mary  cast  her  eyes  on  j'oung  Henry 
Stuart,  Lord  Darnley,  and  though  the  event  proved 
that  she  could  not  have  made  a  more  rash  and  fatal 
choice,  yet  at  the  time  many  circumstances  ren- 
dered it  most  eligible.  Darnley,  who  was  of  the 
blood-royal,  was  first  cousin  to  Mary,*  and  second 
cousin  to  Elizabeth :  he  w\as  a  Protestant.  He  was 
possessed  of  all  external  accomplishments,  being  re- 
markably tall,  handsome,'  and  graceful,  "well  in- 
structed in  all  comely  exercises,"  and  to  please 
Mary,  he  affected  a  degree  of  refinement,  and  a  taste 
for  music  and  poetrj'-,  M'hich,  in  realitj^  he  did  not 

'  The  Countess  of  Lennox,  mother  of  Henry  Lord  Darnley,  was  half- 
sister  to  James  V  and  first  a>?i.sin  to  Queen  Elizabeth. 


MARY  QUEEN  OF  SCOTS.  I&l 

possess.  Those  vices  of  temper  and  disposition  he 
afterward  betrayed  were  of  course  kept  out  of  siq-ht. 
The  principal  objection  that  could  be  made  to  him 
tvas  his  youth,  for  he  was  not  more  than  nineteen. 
His  mother,  Lady  Lennox,  "  a  very  wise  and  dis- 
creet matron,"  Kizzio,  and  others,  instructed  him.  in 
tlie  best  methods  of  rendering-  himself  agreeable  to 
the  queen,  inwhich  he  succeeded.  They  were  mar- 
ried on  the  29th  July,  1565,  when  Mary  was  in  her 
23d  year,  and  Darnley  received  from  his  bride  the 
title  and  many  of  the  Drivileges  of  the  King  of 
Scotland. 

For  a  short  time  Mary  thought  herself  happy,  in 
spite  of  the  unreasonable  displeasure  of  Elizabeth 
and  the  murmurs  of  some  of  her  nobility.  Murray, 
whose  power  was  shaken  by  this  event,  ventured  to 
rebel  openly,  but  was  vigorously  opposed  by  the 
queen,  and  obliged  to  take  shelter  in  England. 
However,  before  many  weeks  were  past,  Mary  be- 
gan to  repent  of  her  imprudent  marriage.  Darnley 
was  a  headstrong,  conceited  boy,  whose  head  v»^as 
turned  by  his  exaltation.  He  was  indeed  the  hus- 
band of  the  queen,  but  she  was  by  birth  and  law  his 
sovereign,  to  v/hom  he  owed  in  public  ail  external 
marks  of  duty  and  respect.  As  a  woman,  who  had 
freely  bestowed  on  him  that  favour  for  which  the 
greatest  princes  of  Europe  had  sued  in  vain,  he 
owed  to  her  unbounded  love  and  gratitude.  But 
Mary's  tenderness  and  merit  were  equally  thrown 
away  upon  him,  and  instead  of  respect,  devotion, 
and  gratitude,  she  met  with  neglect,  brutality,  and 
insolence.  Among  his  other  vices  he  was  addicted 
to  drinking,  and  within  four  months  after  his  mar- 
riage, "  at  an  entertainment  in  a  merchant's  house 
in  Edinburgh,  she  only  dissuading  him  from  drink- 
ing too  much  himself  and  entic-ing  others,  in  both 
which  he  proceeded,  he  gave  her  such  words  that 
she  left  the  place  with  tears."*     Darnley  bore  the 

*  See  Randolph's  letters. 


192  FIl^IALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

title  of  king,  but  this  did  not  satisfy  him  ;  he  wished 
to  have  all  the  power  and  privileges  which  had  been 
conferred  on  Francis  by  the  Scottish  parliament, 
"  the  crown  matrimonial,"  as  it  was  termed ;  and 
less  would  not  content  him.  But  as  his  temper  and 
character  became  better  known  to  Mary,  she  felt  a 
natural  disinclination  to  intrust  him  with  further 
power  ;  and  in  this  resistance  she  was  confirmed  by 
the  advice  of  her  secretary,  David  Rizzio. 

The  young  king,  who  could  not  endure  contra- 
diction, was  loud  in  his  discontent,  sullen  and  inso- 
lent in  his  demeanour,  and  threw  out  various  threats 
against  Rizzio.  Several  noblemen,  at  the  head  of 
whom  was  the  Earl  of  Morton,  already  mentioned, 
encouraged  and  exasperated  him  still  more  for  their 
own  selfish  views:  the  removal  of  Rizzio  and  an 
utter  breach  between  the  queen  and  her  husband 
were  precisely  what  they  most  wished  for ;  and  a 
conspiracy  was  fdrmed  so  dark  and  daring  in  its 
contrivance,  and  so  atrocious  in  its  object,  that  we 
cannot  think  of  it  without  astonishment,  pity,  and 
horror.  It  was  resolved  to  assassinate  Rizzio  ;  and 
among  the  ruffians  who  undertook  to  perpetrate  this 
deed,  in  the  very  presence  of  a  woman  and  their 
queen,  were  the  king  her  husband,  the  lord  chan- 
cellor (Morton),  the  justice  general  of  the  kingdom, 
and  several  lords  of  the  privy  council — what  a  pic- 
ture of  barbarism !  The  details  of  the  murder  of 
Rizzio  are  well  known.  On  the  9th  of  March,  1566, 
while  sitting  at  supper  with  the  queen  and  some 
other  ladies,  he  was  attacked  by  the  conspirators, 
stabbed  over  Mary's  shoulder,  who  attempted  to  de- 
fend him,  then  dragged  out  of  the  room  and  des- 
patched at  the  head  of  the  staircase.  Mary  was 
kept  locked  up  in  her  chamber  (where  this  horrible 
scene  had  taken  place)  the  whole  night ;  even  her 
women  were  not  allowed  to  approach  her ;  but  the 
next  day,  which  was  Sundaj",  Darnley  came  to  her ; 
he  could  not  stand  in  her  presence  without  feeling 


MAKY  QUEEN  OF  SCOTS.         l93 

some  remorse  and  fear,  and  Mary,  who  was  igno- 
rant of  the  whole  extent  of  his  guilt,  employed  all 
ner  eloquence  to  induce  him  to  forsake  the  desperate 
men  with  whom  he  was  leagued,  and  escape  with 
her ;  he  consented,  and  they  fled  together  to  Dunbar. 

The  wrongs  and  insult  which  had  been  offered  to 
Mary  were  so  apparent,  that  she  was  soon  at  the 
head  of  a  powerful  army ;  she  consented  to  pardon 
Murray  and  Argyle,  but  the  cruel  and  perfidious 
Morton,  and  the  two  barbarians  Ruthven  and  Lind- 
say, who  were  among  the  immediate  perpetrators 
of  Rizzio's  murder,  she  threatened  with  the  ex- 
tremity of  her  vengeance ;  they  fled  to  England, 
always  the  safe  asylum  of  Mary's  enemies,  and  re- 
mained there  in  safety  for  some  months,  till  her 
resentment  began  to  wear  away,  and  other  objects 
engrossed  her  attention  and  her  feelings. 

In  June,  1566,  Mary  gave  birth  to  a  son  in  the 
castle  of  Edinburgh,  whither  she  had  retired  with 
her  husband  and  her  brother,  Lord  Murray,  for  the 
sake  of  quiet  and  safety.  After  her  recovery  she 
made  a  short  progress  through  the  country  for  the 
benefit  of  her  health,  accompanied  by  the  king  and 
her  infant  son;  but  though  generally  together,  Mary 
and  her  husband  were  not  on  good  terms ;  he  had 
deeply  disgusted  her,  and  had  incurred  general  con- 
tempt and  odium  by  the  weakness  and  ill  temper  he 
displayed  on  every  occasion. 

It  was  at  this  time  that  Bothwell — the  restless, 
ambitious,  dissolute,  and  daring  Bothwell,  found  fa- 
vour at  court.  His  character  was  well  known,  but 
through  all  these  troubles,  and  amid  all  the  treasons 
and  treachery  of  those  who  surrounded  her,  he  had 
remained  faithful  to  Mary's  interests.  With  regard 
to  the  two  principal  imputations  against  her,  first, 
of  having  regarded  Bothwell  Avith  stronger  feelings 
of  approbation  than  as  a  virtuous  woman  she  ought 
to  have  done;  secondly,  of  having  participated  in 
his  subseauent  crimes,  'and  conspired  with  him  the 


194  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

death  of  her  husband : — these  are  points  on  which 
historians  have  set  forth  a  mass  of  contradictory 
evidence.  Some  consider  her  as  deeply  stained  with 
guilt,  tempting  at  once,  and  tempted ;  others  have 
pronounced  her  the  helpless  victim  of  a  dark,  cruel, 
and  desiirning  man.  But  to  return  to  well-known 
and  undisputed  facts  :  soon  after  the  birth  of  her  son, 
the  general  assembly  of  the  kirk  sent  a  deputation 
to  the  queen,  praying  that  she  v.ould  be  graciously 
pleased  to  allow  the  young  prince  to  be  educated  in 
the  reformed  faith.  To  have  acceded  to  this  re- 
quest w^ould  have  been  against  her  conscience ;  to 
refuse  it  was  perilous.  Mary  released  herself  from 
this  dilemma  with  that  grace  and  woman's  wit  for 
which  she  was  remarkable  ;  she  replied  to  the  depu- 
ties benignly,  but  without  making  any  definite 
promise,  and  calling  for  her  son,  she  placed  him 
herself  in  the  arms  of  their  spokesman :  the  grave 
minister,  unable  to  withstand  so  much  sweetness, 
pronounced  over  the  infant  a  prayer  for  its  future 
prosperity,  and  at  the  conclusion  won  from  it  a  kind 
of  indistinct  murmur,  vdiich  the  good  man  mter- 
preted  into  an  "  Amen."  The  queen,  amused  b}"- 
this  scene,  and  gratified  in  her  maternal  feelings, 
loaded  the  minister  with  thanks  and  expressions  of 
the  kindest  import,  playfully  styling  him  "  Mr. 
Amen,"  by  which  name  he  was  afterward  known. 
The  baptism  of  the  infant  prince  took  place  at  Stir- 
ling on  the  19th  of  December,  1566.  Elizabeth,  not- 
withstanding her  envious  and  repining  exclamation, 
that  "  the  Queen  of  Scots  should  be  mother  of  a  fair 
son  while  she  was  only  a  barren  stock," — stood  god- 
mother, and  despatched  the  Earl  of  Bedford  as  her 
ambassador  on  this  occasion,  while  she  deputed  the 
Countess  of  Argyie  to  officiate  as  her  proxy.  She 
also  presented  a  font  of  gold  to  her  godson,  with  a 
letter  full  of  congratulations  and  compliments  to  his 
mother. 
The  conduct  of  Darnley  meanwhile  was  so  offen- 


MARY    qUEEN    OF    SCOTS.  195 

give  and  grievous  to  his  queen,  and  she  was  so  dis- 
tracted by  the  turbulent  passions  and  the  discontent 
of  those  around  her,  partly  excited  by  his  ill  be- 
haviour, that  in  the  midst  of  the  splendid  rejoicings 
and  festivities  vv^hich  accompanied  the  christening 
of  her  son  she  was  often  seen  in  tears,  and  was 
heard  to  wish  herself  dead.  She  would  not,  how- 
ever, consent  to  be  divorced  from  Darnley,  though 
a  divorce  was  urged,  not  by  Both  well  only,  but  by 
her  brother  Lord  Murray,  the  Earl  of  Huntley, 
Maitland,  and  others  of  her  counsellors.  A  fear  of 
the  consequences  to  her  son,  and  a  feminine  horror 
against  the  expedient  altogether,  seem  to  have  been 
felt  by  her,  or  at  least  were  strongly  expressed  in 
her  decided  reply  to  her  counsellors :  "  I  will  that 
you  do  nothing  by  which  any  spot  may  be  laid  on 
my  honour  and  conscience,  and  therefore,  I  pray  ye, 
let  the  matter  be  in  the  estate  that  it  is  abiding,  till 
God  of  his  goodness  put  a  remedy  to  it.  That  which 
you  believe  would  do  me  a  service  may  possibly 
turn  to  my  hurt  and  displeasure." 

Finding  the  queen  immoveable  on  this  point,  Both- 
well,  whose  object  it  was  to  make  himself  master 
of  her  and  of  the  government,  decided  on  the  murder 
of  Darnley  :  he  was  then  recovering  from  the  small- 
pox, and  lodged  for  the  benefit  of  the  air  in  a  house 
called  the  Kirk-of-field,  near  Edinburgh.  Mary  was 
a  great  deal  with  him  during  his  convalescence. 
Subdued  by  illness,  and  removed  from  his  evil  coun- 
sellors, Darnley  was  no  longer  peevish,  wayward,  or 
violent,  but  penitent  and  grateful  for  kindness ;  and 
Mary,  in  whose  facile  mind  enmity  and  hatred  were 
ever  short-lived,  appeared  touched  by  the  condition 
of  him,  "  her  life  so  late  and  sole  delight,"  and  treated 
him  with  tenderness.  She  sometimes  brought  her 
band  of  musicians  up  from  Holyrood  House  to  amuse 
him.  But  on  Sunday  the  9th  of  February,  a  day  fa- 
tally memorable  in  thehistory  of  Mary,  after  having 
visited  him  as  usual,  she  left  him  to  be  present  at  an 


196  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

entertainment  given  at  the  palace  of  Holyrood,  to 
celebrate  the  marriage  of  her  French  servant  Sebas- 
tian with  Margaret  Garwood,  one  of  her  ladies  in 
waiting.  While  engaged  in  these  festivities,  the 
house  in  which  her  husband  slept  was  blown  up  with 
gunpowder,  and  his  body  and.  that  of  his  servant 
were  found  in  a  garden  at  some  distance.  He 
perished  in  his  twenty-first  year,  having  reigned  only 
eighteen  months.  Of  the  grief  and  horror  which 
Mary  displayed  on  this  occasion  it  is  not  necessary 
to  speak ;  evidently,  however,  she  felt  more  horror 
than  grief;  and  considering  how  little  reason  she 
had  to  regret  Darnley,  it  is  something  in  favour  of 
her  sincerity  that  she  did  not  seem  to  act  a  part, 
but  recovered  herself  quickly,  and  resumed  all  her 
self-possession. 

So  many  circumstances  conspired  to  fix  sus- 
picion on  the  Earl  of  Bothwell,  that  he  was  brought 
to  trial  on  the  accusation  of  the  Earl  of  Lennox, 
the  father  of  the  murdered  king.  But  the  trial  was 
fixed  for  an  early  day,  the  proceedings  hurried 
over ;  Lennox  himself,  pleading  the  shortness  of 
the  time,  did  not  appear  against  him  ;  and  Bothwell, 
in  the  absence  of  his  legal  accuser,  was  acquitted 
by  a  jury  composed  of  the  first  noblemen  in  the 
kingdom. 

Bothwell's  next  object  was  to  marry  the  queen, 
and  the  steps  taken  for  this  purpose,  if  with  Mary's 
consent,  were  as  incomprehensible  and  apparently 
unnecessary  as  they  were  unpardonable  ;  if  taken 
without  her  participation,  and  contrary  to  her  will, 
the  expedients  resorted  to  were  so  base  and  villa- 
nous  that  they  cannot  even  be  glanced  at  without 
horror.  The  queen,  we  are  told,  was  returning  from 
Stirling  Castle,  towards  Edinburgh,  with  a  small 
retinue,  when  Bothwell,  at  the  head  of  one  thousand 
armed  men,  encountered  her  on  Fountain  Bridge, 
about  a  mile  from  Linlithgow,  seized  the  reins  of 
her  horse,  and  carried  her,  without  any  resistance, 


MARV    QL'EJiN    OF    SCOTS.  IV  / 

to  the  Castle  of  Dunbar,  Avhere  he  kept  her  closely 
"  sequestrated"  for  a  fortni^-ht ;  during:  the  first 
week  her  own  servants  had  not  access  to  her.  Dur- 
ing the  second  week  a  privy  council  was  called, 
attended  by  two  or  three  nobles  devoted  to  Both- 
well.  He  had  previously  contrived  to  have  a  bond 
signed  by  one  arclibishop,  four  bishops,  and  sixteen 
of  the  most  distinguished  noblemen  and  statesmen 
of  the  time,  in  which  he  was  recommended  to  the 
queen  as  a  fit  and  proper  husband  for  her  majesty ; 
the  subscribers  to  this  infamous  bond  obliged  them- 
selves by  oath,  "  to  advance  and  set  forward  such 
marriage  by  word  and  deed,  and  to  consider  as  a 
common  enemy  whoever  should  oppose  it."  Armed 
with  this  document,  and  having  procured  with  dis- 
graceful celerity  a  divorce  from  his  wife,  Lady  Jane 
Gordon, — Bothwell  brought  the  queen  back  to  Edin- 
burgh on  the  3d  of  May;  and  on  the  15th  of  May 
this  guilty  and  fatal  marriage  was  solemnized. 

If  Mary  had  been  disgusted  by  the  coarse  vices 
of  Darnley,  what  must  she  not  have  suffered  when 
she  found  herself  in  the  power  of  the  rufhan  Both- 
well  1  She  passed  but  one  month  with  him,  and 
this  month  is  usually  considered  as  the  most  mise- 
rable of  her  miserable  life.  He  treated  her  with  such 
indignity,  that  a  day  did  not  pass  in  which  "  he  did 
not  cause  her  to  shed  abundance  of  salt  tears."  He 
surrounded  her  with  a  guard,  so  that  none  of  her 
movements  could  be  said  to  be  voluntary  ;  and  once, 
in  a  paroxysm  of  passion  and  despair,  she  threatened 
her  own  life.  Those  very  lords  who  had  signed 
the  bond  already  mentioned  in  his  favour  now  made 
this  marriage  a  pretence  for  rebellion,  but  still  with- 
out breathing  a  syllable  that  could  cast  an  imputa- 
tion on  Mary.  A  party,  at  the  head  of  which  was 
the  Earl  of  Morton',  with  the  ostensible  purpose  of 
delivering  their  "  sovereign  lady's  most  noble  per 
son"  from  the  power  of  Bothwell  (for  she  was  not 
at  this  time  accused  of  having  placed  herself  will 

J.— P 


198  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

ingly  in  his  hands),  had  assembled  at  Stirling.  Both- 
well  on  his  part  called  his  followers  together  in  the 
que«3n's  name,  and  the  two  factions  met  at  Carberry 
Hill.  Here  a  negotiation  was  entered  into,  for  both 
parties  seemed  averse  to  an  immediate  engagement, 
and  Mary  took  a  very  unexpected  and  decisive  step. 
She  agreed  at  once  to  dismiss  Bothwell,  and  place 
herself  in  the  hands  of  the  adverse  party,  if  they 
would  be  answerable  for  her  safety  and  return  to 
their  allegiance  :  this  was  agreed  to  ;  she  persuaded 
Bothwell  to  ride  off  the  field,  and  he  retired  to  Dun- 
bar. They  never  met  again  ;  and  thus,  in  less  than 
a  month,  this  disgraceful  union  was  virtually  ended : 
its  fatal  consequences  terminated  not  so  soon — they 
only  ended  with  the  life  of  Mary. 

The  noblemen  to  whose  loyalty  Mary  had  trusted 
her  safety  and  her  person  brought  her  to  Edinburgh, 
where  she  was  received  with  insults  instead  of 
honour.  A  ghastly  banner  was  displayed  before 
her,  on  which  was  depicted  the  body  of  the  murdered 
Darnley,  and  the  young  prince  kneeling  by  his  side 
— with  this  legend,  "  Judge  and  avenge  my  cause, 
O  Lord."  Faint,  weary,  terrified,  covered  with  dust 
and  bathed  in  tears,  she  was  thus  led  through  the 
town  to  the  provost's  house.  After  being  kept  in 
constraint  for  a  few  days,  the  lords,  who  feared  that 
the  populace  would  rise  in  her  favour,  conveyed  her 
forcibly  to  the  castle  of  Lonhleven,  where  she  was 
kept  a  close  prisoner,  without  any  of  the  attendance 
befitting  her  rank.  This  her  first  captivity  took 
place  in  June,  1567. 

While  Mary  was  shut  up  in  the  castle  of  Loch- 
leven,  the  rebel  lords  extorted  from  her  a  formal 
abdication  of  the  crown  in  favour  of  her  infant  son. 
The  unhappy  queen  signed  this  paper  in  a  paroxysm 
of  tears,  exclaiming  against  the  violence  used 
towards  her,  and  calling  all  present  to  witness  that 
it  was  done  in  fear  of  her  life,  and  therefore  not 
vahd.    It  appears  that  at  this  time  she  did  not  be- 


MARY   QUEEN   OF  SCOTS.  199 

Mere  her  brother,  Lord  Murray,  so  deeply  implicated 
in  the  plots  against  her  as  he  really  was ;  for,  with 
a  fond  confidence,  which,  if  Murray  had  a  heart, 
must  have  wrung  it  to  its  core,  she  flung  her  arms 
round  him,  pressed  him  to  her  bosom,  and  entreated 
him  to  take  on  himself  the  regency,  "  for  the  pro- 
tection of  her  son,  until  she  should  be  liberated." 
This  was  the  end  and  aim  of  all  Murray's  machina- 
tions :  he  left  his  sister,  deceived  for  the  present, 
was  immediately  proclaimed  regent  during  the  mi- 
nority of  the  young  king,  and  Mary  was  declared  to 
have  forfeited  all  right  and  title  to  the  throne. — 
Eleven  months  were  passed  by  Mary  in  close  con- 
finement, under  the  particular  custody  of  Lady  Mar- 
garet Douglas,  styled  in  those  times  "the  Lady  of 
Lochleven ;"  and  her  captivity  was  further  imbittered 
by  the  stern  and  harsh  temper  of  this  woman,  who 
had  motives  for  private  and  personal  irritation 
against  her  prisoner.  But  the  second  son  of  Lady 
Margaret,  and  a  young  boy  of  about  fifteen,  who 
was  called  little  William  Douglas,  could  not  behold 
the  misfortunes  of  Mary  without  pity  and  sympathy, 
and  resolved  to  undertake  her  deliverance.  The 
first  attempt  failed  through  tlie  carelessness  of  the 
queen  herself.  She  had  succeeded  in  leaving  the 
castle  in  the  disguise  of  a  laundress,  with  whom  she 
had  changed  clothes,  and  when  seated  in  the  boat, 
which  was  pushing  from  the  shore,  she  betrayed 
herself  by  lifting  her  hand  to  her  head.  The  beauty 
and  extreme  whiteness  of  that  hand  discovered  her 
at  once,  and  she  was  carried  back  to  her  chamber, 
in  tears  and  bitterness  of  heart.  The  next  attempt 
'*^as  more  successful.  At  midnight,  on  the  3d  of 
May,  1568,  William  Douglas  contrived  to  possess 
himself  of  the  keys  of  the  portal ;  a  small  skiff  was 
in  waiting  under  the  walls  of  the  castle :  in  this  he 
placed  the  queen  and  her  maid,  Jane  Kennedy,  and 
rowed  across  the  lake  to  the  opposite  shore,  where 
George   Douglas  and  a   few  faithful   friends  were 


*200  FE.TIALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

waiting  to  receive  them.  The  queen  was  then 
mounted  on  a  swift  horse  and  brought  to  Niddry, 
the  house  of  Lord  Seaton,  where  she  took  some  re- 
pose, and  Avas  thence  brought  to  Hamilton,  her 
iriends  and  followers  increasing  every  hour.  The 
strongest  enthusiasm  was  excited  in  her-  favour 
Many  nobles  of  the  highest  distinction  for  rank  and 
character  crowded  to  her  standard,  and  in  thre© 
days  after  her  escape  from  the  solitary  towers  of 
Lochleven  she  found  herself  at  the  head  of  six 
thousand  men  devoted  to  her  cause. 

Hamilton  not  being  fortified,  her  partisans  resolved 
to  convey  her  to  the  castle  of  Dumbarton,  a  place 
of  strength,  v/here  she  v/ould  be  in  safety  from  he? 
enemies,  and  accordingly  they  commenced  theii 
march  northwards. 

In  the  mean  time  the  regent  Murray  had  assem- 
bled his  troops  at  Glasgow,  and  hastened  to  oppose 
her ;  and  when  we  consider  that  Murray  v/as  the 
brother  of  Mary,  that  she  had  loaded  him  with 
benefits  and  honours,  and  twice  pardoned  him  for 
treason  against  herself,  and  that  on  this  occasion 
he  was  pursuing  the  destruction  of  the  mother  in 
the  name  and  under  the  banners  of  her  own  son,  it 
is  scarcely  possible  to  conceive  any  thing  more 
frightful  and  unnatural  than  such  a  state  of  things. 
The  two  armies  met  at  Langside,  a  little  village  to 
the  south  of  Glasgov/.  The  queen  wished  to  avoid 
an  engagement,  but  the  headlong  impatience  and 
enthusiasm  of  her  adherents  were  not  to  be  re- 
strained, and  the  mortal  strife  began.  From  a  neigh- 
bouring eminence  Mary  viewed  the  vicissitudes  of  ? 
battle  on  which  her  fate  depended.  She  beheld — 
with  what  anguish  of  heart  we  may  imagine — the 
fortune  of  the  day  turn  against  her;  she  saw, 
through  blinding  tears,  her  faithful  friends  cut  to 
pieces,  taken  prisoners,  or  flying  before  the  victo- 
rious iMurray.  When  all  Avas  indeed  lost,  her  general, 
Lord  Herries,  came  up  to  her,  seized  her  bridle,  and 


MARV  QUEEN  OF  SCOTS.         201 

turned  her  horse's  head  from  the  dismal  scene.  They 
fled  southwards,  with  a  few  adherents,  nor  staid 
nor  reposed  till  they  had  reached  Dundrennan,  sixty 
miles  from  the  field  of  battle. 

There  Mary,  trusting  in  Elizabeth's  late  profes- 
sions of  attachment,  took  the  fatal  resolution  of 
passing  into  England,  to  throw  herself  upon  the 
compassion  and  protection  of  the  Enghsh  queen; 
and  such  protection  she  found  indeed  as  the  wolf 
affords  the  lamb  which  has  strayed  into  his  den ; 
such  pity  as  the  dove,  escaped  "  with  plumage  all 
impaired"  from  the  talons  of  the  hawk,  finds  within 
the  snares  of  the  watchful  fowler.  It  was  on  Sun- 
day the  13th  of  May,  1568,  that  the  Queen  of  Scots 
quitted  for  the  last  time  her  own  dominions,  and 
landed  at  Workington,  in  Cumberland  ;  and  though 
she  was  received  with  great  show  of  respect,  and 
treated  with  the  honours  due  to  her  rank,  by  the 
gentlemen  residing  near  the  borders,  yet  from  that 
moment  may  be  xlated  her  long  and  sorrowful  cap- 
tivity of  nearly  nineteen  years. 

When  Mary  arrived  in  England  her  retinue  con- 
sisted of  about  twenty  persons,  among  whom  were 
Lesley,  Bishop  of  Ross,  an  excellent  prelate  and  an 
accomplished  man;  the  good  Lord  Herries,  Lord 
Livingstone,  and  Lord  Fleming;  her  deliverers 
George  and  WilUam  Douglas,  two  secretaries,  Se- 
bastian the  Frenchman,  and  his  v>4fe;  Ladies  Living- 
stone and  Fleming;  and  Mary  Seaton,  the  only  one 
of  the  original  Maries  who  survived  to  her.  All  these, 
with  the  exception  of  the  two  secretaries,  remained 
true  and  attached  to  her  till  death.  She  was  at  this 
time  in  her  twenty-sixth  year,  in  the  very  prime  of 
existence,  in  the  full  bloom  of  her  beauty  and  hei 
health,  when  a  dark  pall  was  flung  over  her  life. 
Thenceforward  Mary's  history  presents  one  painful 
picture  of  monotonous  suffering  on  the  one  hand, 
:f)f  meanness,  treachery,  and  cruelty  on  the  other. 
Elizabeth,  Avith  relentless  and  perfidious  policy,  kept 


202  FEMALE  SOVEREIGNS. 

her  rival  in  perpetual  bonds ;  the  only  changes  were 
from  prison  to  prison,  and  from  one  harsh  keeper  to 
another,  from  tlie  gleam  of  a  delusive  hope  to  the 
tenfold  darkness  of  succeeding  disappointment. 

Elizabeth  arrogated  to  herself  the  right  of  deciding 
between  Mary  and  her  Scottish  subjects.  A  confer- 
ence met  at  York,  in  which  the  Queen  of  Scotland 
and  the  Queen  of  England  were  represented  by  their 
respective  commissioners,  and  the  regent  Murray 
appeared  in  person.  In  this  conference  Murray  and 
his  confederates  accused  Mary  of  participating  m 
the  murder  of  her  husband,  and  of  other  monstrous 
crimes,  which  rendered  her  not  only  unfit  to  govern,^ 
but  unfit  to  live  ;  and  they  produced  as  proofs  of  her 
guilt  certain  letters  said  to  have  passed  between  the 
queen  and  Bothwell.  The  commissioners  of  tlie 
Queen  of  Scots,  acting  from  her  written  instructions, 
repelled  these  accusations,  declared  the  letters  to  be 
forgeries,  and  formally  accused  Murray,  Morton,  and 
the  rest  of  high-treason  and  scandal  against  their 
sovereign.  This  famous  conference,  by  the  artful 
management  of  Elizabeth,^  closed  without  coming  to 
any  decision;  and  as  Lord  Murray  had  been  permit- 
ted to  return  to  Scotland,  Mary  required  that  she 
also  should  be  set  at  liberty,  as  there  could  be  no 
longer  the  slightest  pretence  for  keeping  her  under 
restraint.  In  answer,  it  was  mtimated  that  if  she 
would  voluntarily  confirm  her  forced  abdication  and 
renounce  her  throne  and  kingdom,  she  should  be 
permitted  to  reside  in  quiet  and  privacy  in  England. 
"  The  eyes  of  all  Europe,"  replied  Mary,  with  her 
usual  spirit,  "  are  upon  me  at  this  moment ;  and 
were  I  thus  tamely  to  yield  to  my  adversaries,  1 
should  be  pronouncing  my  owii  condemnation.  A 
thousand  times  rather  would  I  submit  to  death  than 
inliict  this  stain  upon  my  honour.  The  last  words  I 
speak  shall  be  those  of  the  Queen  of  Scotland." 

Thus  refusing  her  libert}^  on  these  conditions,  she 
remained  a  captive.    In  1569  she  was  removed  from 


MARY  QUEEN  OF  SCOTS.  203 

Bolton  to  the  castle  of  Tutbury,  in  Staffordshire, 
and  placed  in  the  custody  of  the  Earl  of  Shrewsbury 
and  his  wife,  the  famous  "  Bess  of  Ilardwicke,"  a 
woman  ^penurious  and  rapacious  character,  and  of 
a  most  violent  and  jealous  temper.  Both  were  hon- 
ourable, but  most  strict  and  watchful  guardians,  and 
great  fears  were  obviously  entertained  of  the  power 
of  Mary's  charms  over  those  who  were  suffered  to 
approach  her.  "  If  I  miglit  give  advice,"  writes  one 
of  the  statesmen  who  saw  her  at  this  time,  "  there 
should  be  very  few  subjects  of  this  land  have  access 
to  a  conference  with  this  lady ;  for  besides  that  she 
is  a  goodly  personage  (and  yet  in  truth  not  com- 
parable to  our  sovereign),  she  hath  withal  an  alluring 
grace,  a  pretty  Scotch  speech,  and  a  searching  wit, 
clouded  with  mildness.  Fame  might  move  some  to 
relieve  her;  and  glory,  joined  to  gain,  might  stir 
others  to  adventure  much  for  her  sake."  The  advicb 
contained  in  this  letter  was  too  acceptable  not  to  be 
followed,  and  every  succeeding  year  found  Mary  re- 
duced in  society,  comforts,  and  health.  Her  principal 
occupation  was  needlework,  and  her  amusements 
reading  and  composition;  she  retained  her  early  love 
of  literature,  and  it  was  now,  next  to  her  religious 
feelings  and  hopes,  her  best  resource.  The  unva- 
rying mildness  and  saint-like  patience  with  which 
Mary  endured  her  long  captivity  is  the  more  r(:!mark- 
able,  if  we  remember  that  she  was  disinclined  to 
sedentary  amusements,  and  by  nature  and  habit  fond 
of  walking,  riding,  gardening,  hunting,  and  hawking, 
and  all  exercises  in  the  open  air.  Her  gentleness, 
therefore,  under  a  restraint  so  painful  and  so  heart- 
wearing,  may  be  considered  as  a  proof  of  singular 
sweetness  of  temper  and  strength  of  mind,  if  we 
must  not  admit  it  as  a  proof  of  a  clear  and  tranquil 
conscience.  One  of  Cecil's  emissaries,  who  visited 
her  at  Tutbury,  with  Avondrous  impudence  and  hy- 
pocrisy, recommended  to  her  "  to  thank  God,  that 
after   so  many  perils  she  had  arrived  in  a  realm 


204  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

where,  through  the  goodness  of  Queen  Ehzabeth's 
majesty,  she  had  rather  cause  to  regard  herself  as 
receiving  prince-Uke  entertainment,  than  as  suffering 
the  shghtest  restraint."  To  which  M*y  rephed, 
meekly,  "that  indeed  she  had  great  cause  to  be 
thankful  to  Heaven  and  to  her  good  sister  for  such 
ease  as  she  enjoyed  ;  and  that  though  she  would  not 
pretend  to  ask  of  Gad  contentment  in  a  state  of  cap- 
tivity, she  made  it  her  daily  petition  that  he  would 
endue  her  with  patience  to  endure  it."* 

Ronsard,  the  French  poet,  who  hai^l  known,  ad- 
mired, and  celebrated  her  when  she  was  young,  ad- 
dressed a  book  of  verses  to  her  in  her  captivity.  In 
many  of  these  poems  there  is  much  beauty  and  deep 
feeling;  and  Mary,  who  received  this  tribute  with 
gratitude  and  pleasure,  at  a  time  when  she  seemed 
to  have  fallen  into  total  oblivion,  and  all  the  world 
appeared  to  have  forsaken  her  but  this  generous  poet, 
sent  him  from  her  prison  2000  crowns  and  a  silver 
vase  from  her  toilet,  on  which  she  had  writien. 

"A  Ronsard,  TApollon  de  la  source  des  Muses." 

There  was  also  another  who,  from  motives  less 
generous  and  unselfish,  was  deeply  interested  in  the 
fate  of  Mary.  This  was  the  unfortunate  Duke  of 
Norfolk,  who,  impelled  by  mingled  motives — by  per- 
sonal ambition,  by  his  rehgious  feelings  or  prejudices, 
by  his  admiration  and  pity  for  the  imprisoned  queen 
—engaged  himself  in  various  plots  for  her  deliver- 
ance, which  ended  in  his  ov/n  destruction.  Norfolk, 
though  generous  and  brave,  appears  to  have  been  a 
weak  man.  He  had  not  sufficient  talent  or  strength 
of  character  to  play  the  daring  part  assigned  to  him. 
He  vacillated, — would  have  been  great,  "  but  was  too 
full  o'  the  milk  of  human  kindness  to  catch  the  near- 
est way."  He  was  betrayed  by  one  of  his  own  ser- 
vants, tried  for  high-treason,  condemned,  and  exe- 

•  Letter  of  Nicholas  AVbyto 


MARY  QUEEN  OF  SCOTS.  205 

cuted.  When  the  news  of  his  firrai^-nment  and 
condemnation  was  brought  to  Sheffield  castle,  where 
Mary  then  resided,  she  abandoned  herself  to  grief, 
and  wept  most  bitterly,  exclaiming  that  "  all  who 
had  ever  loved  her  fared  the  worse  for  her  sake." 
Lady  Shrewsbury,  by  way  of  comfort,  argued  that 
the  duke  was  justly  condemned;  on  which  Mary  gave 
way  to  a  fresh  burst  of  sorrow  ;  but  would  talk  no 
more  on  the  subject,  and  refused  to  leave  her  chamber 
for  a  week.* 

Elizabeth,  though  anxious  to  implicate  Mary  in 
all  the  guilt  of  Norfolk,  could  not  succeed  in  fixing 
any  imputation  on  her  beyond  that  of  seizing  with 
avidity  any  means  which  offered  for  her  deliverance 
from  a  hateful  captivity.  This  Mary  freely  acknow- 
ledged ;  but  as  to  being  privy  to  any  plot  against  the 
life  or  throne  of  Elizabeth,  she  constantly  and  stren- 
uously denied  every  intention  of  the  kind. 

Apparently  the  health  of  Mary  declined,  from  the 
want  of  exercise  and  the  dampness  of  the  prisons  in 
which  she  was  confined;  she  suffered,  too,  from  con- 
stant pain  in  her  side,  and  rheumatism  and  weakness 
in  her  limbs. f  From  Tutbury,  where  she  spent,  with 
few  changes,  nearly  sixteen  years,  she  was  removed 
to  Chartley,  under  the  care  of  Sir  Amias  Paulet  and 
Sir  Drue  Drury;  and  thence  to  Fotheringay,  whither 
she  was  carried  in  1586. 

But  where,  during  this  long  period  of  suffering, 
was  the  only  son  of  Mary, — he  who  in  duty  and 
affection  should  have  stood  forward  to  protect  and 
defend  her  1  To  her  other  sorrows  was  added  his 
coldness,  his  ingratitude,  and  his  undutifulness ;  and 
it  was  the  most  bitter  of  all.  He  had  been  brought 
up  to  contemn  and  detest  his  mother  ;  to  regard  hei 

*  Vide  Letter  from  Sir  Ralph  Sadler  to  Lord  Burleigh,  in  Ellis's  col- 
JlBction,  vol.  ii.  p.  329. 

t  "  To  this  state  of  suffering  and  disease  we  must  add,  that  the  econo- 
iriy  of  Elizabeth  did  not  permit  to  her  who  had  once  been  a  queen  the 
accommodations  which  are  furnished  in  modern  hospitals  to  invalids  of 
the  meanest  order  "—Vide  Sir  Walter  Scott's  Hist,  of  Scotland,  voL  ii.  2(57. 


206  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

with  selfish  fear,  as  one  who  might  deprive  hirn  of 
his  throne  ;  and  v/heu  Mary  sent  him  a  present  of  a 
vest_eml)roidered  with  her  own  hands,  accompanied 
by  a  tender  letter,  and  some  jewels  which  remained 
in  her  .possession,  all  were  returned  to  her  with  dis- 
dain, and  the  messenger  refused  even  an  audience, 
because  his  mother,  never  having  relinquished  her 
own  rights,  addressed  him  as  the  Prince,  and  not  as 
the  King  of  Scotland.* 

Her  chief  enemies  all  passed  away  from  the  earth 
during  her  long  imprisonment ;  and,  if  it  had  been  in 
her  nature,  she  might  have  rejoiced  to  see  that  each 
found  a  fitting  doom.  The  crafty  and  relentless 
Murray  was  assassinated  with  vengeful  and  cunning 
ferocity  by  one  who  had  received  a  private  injury, 
not  from  Murray  himself,  but  one  of  his  followers. 
The  fierce  and  cruel  Morton  perished  on  a  scaffold ; 
the  acute,  subtle,  and  accomplished  Maitland  ended 
all  his  politic  intrigues  with  self-murder, — he  poi- 
soned himself;  and  Bothwell,  that  fiend  in  human 
shape,  after  being  hunted  as  an  outlaw  from  place  to 
place,  became  a  pirate  on  the  North  Seas,  was  taken 
prisoner,  thrown  into  a  dungeon  in  the  castle  of  Mal- 
moe  in  Norway,  where,  after  ten  years'  misery,  he 
died  in  a  state  of  mental  derangement,  forsaken,  de 
tested,  and  even  forgotten,  by  all. 

During  sixteen  years  no  plots  had  been  formed 
against  Elizabeth  in  which  Maiy  was  not  supposed 
to  be  implicated ;  in  fact,  while  she  existed  Eliza- 
beth was  stretched  upon  the  rack  of  fear  and  suspi- 
cion, and  even  went  the  length  of  tampering  with 
some  of  her  officers  to  induce  them  to  assassinate 
Mary  :  this  is  unhappily  proved  beyond  dispute.  At 
last,  an  infamous  law  was  made  by  the  English  par- 

*  It  is  even  said  that  when  Courcelles,  the  French  minister  at  the 
Scottish  court,  endeavoured  to  rouse  James  to  some  vir;orous  measure 
for  his  mother's  safety,  he  replied,  with  a  coarseness  and  a  calnmess 
equally  characteristic,  "  that  as  she  brewed,  she  must  drink."- -Jiethune. 
(Set-  Miss  Benger's  Life  of  Marv  vol.  ii.  p.  450  ) 


MAUV   QUEKN   OF  SCOTS.  207 

He  merit  for  tlie  purpose  of  entrapping-  her,  and  vvhicli 
declared,  not  only  the  conspirators  themselves,  but 
those  persons  (however  innocent  or  ignorant  of  their 
purpose)  in  vviiose  cause  they  conspired,  as  e(iually 
guilty  of  treason  :  a  law  of  such  barefaced  injustice 
we  can  but  wonder  that  an  English  parliament  should 
be  found  to  promulgate  it.  By  this  law  was  INIary 
tried,  as  consenting  to  Babington's  plot,  in  1586;  and 
by  this  law  w^as  she  condemned,  by  a  bench  of  judges, 
consisting  of  twenty-eight  English  peers,  and  seven- 
teen other  persons,  illustrious  either  by  birth  or  office, 
and  "all  honourable  men."  Notwithstanding  her 
admirable  defence,  in  which,  though  broken  in  health 
and  spirits,  she  exhibited  as  much  vigour  and  dignity 
of  mind,  and  acuteness  of  intellect,  as  she  had  ever 
displayed  when  in  possession  of  youth,  health,  and 
power,  a  sentence,  universally  acknowledged  to  be 
unjust  and  iniquitous,  was  pronounced  against  her,  and 
but  three  months  were  suffered  to  elapse  betw^een  the 
verdict  and  the  execution.  Elizabeth  was  anxious 
to  ascertain  how  far  she  might  proceed  with  safety 
to  herself;  and  finding  that  all  those  who  were  most 
bound  to  befriend,  to  protect,  or  to  avenge  Mary 
were  too  much  engrossed  by  their  own  selfish  inter- 
ests to  stir  in  her  behalf,  she  hesitated  no  longer. 

On  Tuesday  the  7th  of  February,  1587,  the  war- 
rant for  the  death  of  the  Queen  of  Scots  was  brought 
down  to  Fotheringay  by  the  Earls  of  Shrewsbury 
and  Kent,  who  were  commissioned  to  see  it  put  into 
execution.  In  the  afternoon  of  that  day  it  was  inti- 
mated to  her,  for  the  first  time,  that  she  was  to  die 
the  next  morning;  her  attendants  burst  into  lament- 
ations, and  she  appeared  herself  a  little  surprised  at 
the  suddenness  of  the  news,  and  the  short  time  al- 
lowed her  for  preparation.  She,  however,  very 
calmly  expressed  her  submission  to  the  will  of  God, 
and  her  readiness  to  die,  at  the  same  time  protesting 
most  solemnly  against  the  injustice  of  her  sentence. 
The  moment  the  two  earls  withdrew  she  fell  on  her 


208  FEMALE  SOVEREIGNS. 

knees,  and  thanked  God  "  that  her  suifermgs  were 
now  so  near  an  end,  and  prayed  that  she  might  be 
enabled  to  endure  what  yet  remained  Vv-ith  decency 
and   with   fortitude."     She  afterward   spent  great 
part  of  the  night  in  arrang-ing  her  affairs,  and  making 
lier  last  will,  which  is  still  extant,  and  consists  of 
four  pages,  closely  written,  in  a  neat  and  firm  hand- 
Not  one  person  was  forgotten  Avho  had  any  claims 
on  her   gratitude  or  her  remembrance ; — she  also 
wrote  several  letters,  but  these,  it  is  said,  are  blotted 
with  her  tears.     She  supped  with  cheerfulness,  and 
drank  to  her  attendants  in  a  last  cup  of  wine,  who 
pledged  her  on  their  knees,  and  bathed  in  tears. 
She  then  went  to  bed,  and  either  slept,  or  seemed  to 
sleep,  for  a  few  hours.      Next  morning,  at  eight 
'clock,  all  was  ready,  and  Maiy,  after  spending 
'me  time  in  fervent  devotion,  descended  to  the  hall 
M  which  the  scaffold  was  prepared.     She  was  in  full 
dress,  habited  in  a  robe  of  black,  silk,  bordered  with 
crimson  velvet,  and  a  long  veil  of  white  crape,  edged 
with  lace ;  she  wore  a  rich  chain  round  her  neck, 
and  held  in  her  hand  a  small  ivory  crucifix.     She 
walked  into  the  hall,  leaning  on  the  arm  of  herphy- 
'■cian  Bourgoigne,  and  took  her  seat,  while   the 
Dean  of  Peterborough  began  a  long  exhortation,  to 
which  she  paid  little  attention,  praying  aloud,  and 
according  to  the  forms  of  her  own  church.     She 
requested  that  some  of  her  female  attendants  might 
be  allowed  to  perform  the  last  offices  about  her  per- 
son.    This  was  at  first  refused  ;  but  she  represented 
so  earnestly  the  indignity  and  indelicacy  of  suflfering 
her  to  die  surrounded  by  men  only,  that  at  length 
they  consented  for  very  shame.     Two  of  her  maids 
unrobed  her : — as  she  had  answered  for  their  self- 
possession,  they  restrained  their  cries  and  tears,  but 
trembled  so  violently  that  they  could  scarcely  stand. 
Mary  remained  perfectly  calm ;  her  colour  did  not 
change,  her  voice  did  not  falter ;  there  was  no  defiance 
Pr  effort  in  her  deportment,  but  the  utmost  njodesty 


MARY   QUEEN  OF  SCOTS.  209 

and  meekness,  united  to  the  utmost  firmness.  When 
she  had  finislied  her  devotions,  in  which  she  prayed 
audibly  for  EUzabeth,  she  quietly  prepared  for  death, 
Jane  Kennedy  (who  was  still  with  her)  performed 
the  last  sad  office  of  binding  her  eyes ;  she  then  laid 
her  head  upon  the  block,  saying,  with  a  firm  voice, 
"  0  Lord,  in  thee  have  1  hoped,  and  into  thy  hands  I 
commit  myself!"  One  of  the  executioners,  a  bar- 
barian well  chosen  for  such  a  purpose,  performed  his 
office  ; — the  other  lifted  up  the  severed  head  by  the 
hair,  and  cried  out,  "  God  save  Elizabeth,  Queen  of 
England  !" — the  Earl  of  Kent  and  the  Dean  of  Peter- 
borough responded,  "  Thus  perish  all  her  enemies  V 
— the  rest  of  the  spectators,  overcome  with  horror, 
pity,  and  admiration,  remained  silent,  and  drowned 
in  tears. 

Mary  Stuart  perished  at  the  age  of  forty-four 
j^ears  and  two  months,  and  in  the  nineteenth  year 
of  her  sad  captivity.  Her  life  had  been  most  unfor- 
tunate ;  her  death,  though  tragical,  can  hardly  be 
called  tinforiunate,  since  it  removed  her  from  a  state 
of  suffering  to  a  better  world  ;  and  since  the  piety, 
fortitude,  and  sublime  resignation  she  displayed  on 
this  occasion  have  furnished  her  defenders  with  one 
strong  presumptive  proof  of  her  general  innocence. 

Her  remains  were  taken  from  her  weeping  ser- 
vants, and  a  green  cloth,  ton  in  haste  from  an  old 
billiard  table,  was  flung  over  her  once  beautiful  form  : 
thus  it  remained,  unwatched  and  unattended,  except 
by  a  poor  little  lapdog,  which  could  not  be  induced 
to  quit  the  body  of  ifs  mistress.*  After  the  lapse 
of  a  few  days,  she  was  inteiTed,  by  Ehzabeth's  order, 
in  the  cathedral  of  Peterborough  ;  and  on  the  acces- 
sion of  her  son  to  the  English  crown,  as  James  I., 
her  remains  were  brought  to  Westminster  Abbe^ 
where  they  repose  among  the  sovereigns  of  her  race 

*  This  faithful  little  animal  was  fmind  dead  two  days  afterward  ;  and 
the  circumstance  made  such  an  impression  even  on  the  hard-hearted 
ministers  of  Elizabeth  that  it  was  mentioned  in  the  ofRcial  despatches 


210  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

The  striking  similarity  between  the  char;»ctsr  and 
fate  of  Mary  of  Scotland  and  Joanna  of  Naples  has 
freqnently  been  alluded  to ;  but  the  parallel  has  never, 
1  believe,  been  closely  and  regularly  drawn,  and  it 
presents  a  series  of  very  curious  coincidences. 

Both  were  from  their  birth  destined  to  a  throne ; 
— both  were  called  to  reign  in  early  youth  ; — both 
were  highly  and  equally  gifted  b}?"  nature,  in  mind 
and  in  person  ; — both  beautiful,  and  even  resembling 
each  other  in  the  character  of  beauty  attributed  to 
each ; — both  were  remarkable  for  a  love  of  pleasure, 
a  taste  for  magnificence,  and  an  early  predilection 
for  literature  and  learned  men.  If  Mary  was  the 
most  accomplished  of  the  two,  it  was  because  she 
lived  in  more  favourable  times,  and  her  education 
took  place  under  more  favourable  auspices.  She 
loved  poetry,  and  patronised  Ronsard,  the  best  poet 
of  his  time.  The  court  of  Joanna  was  graced  by 
Petrarch,  one  of  the  greatest  poets  of  any  age.  Jo- 
anna left  many  monuments  of  her  splendid  taste  ; 
for  she  had  enjoyed,  in  the  midst  of  tumults  and  re- 
verses, some  intervals  of  tranquillity,  and  reigned 
thirty  years.  Mary's  short  and  unquiet  reign  did  not 
permit  her  to  leave  any  lasting  memorials  of  her 
splendour  or  her  beneficence,  and  what  she  might  or 
would  have  done  must  be  left  to  conjecture. 

Mary  and  Joanna  were  both  married  in  their  in- 
fancy, and  without  their  own  choice,  to  men  far  in- 
ferior to  themselves,  both  in  mental  powers  and  ac- 
complishments. Andreas  of  Hungary  was  brought 
to  Naples  to  be  educated  with  his  future  bride  ;  and 
Mary  was  sent  fo  Paris  to  be  educated  with  her  future 
husband.  According  to  some  historians,  Andreas 
appears  to  have  greatly  resembled  Francis  in  his  dis- 
position :  they  describe  him  as  timid,  deficient  iq 
intellect,  but  good-natured  and  affectionate  :  accord- 
ing to  other  writers,  he  united  all  the  deficiencies  of 
Francis  to  all  the  vices  of  Darnley.  Both  queens 
have  been  accused  as  accessary  to  a  husband's  nmr- 
der,  under  circumstances  nearly  similar,  and  on  very 


MARY  QUEEN    OF    SCOTS.  211 

uncertain  and  contradictory  evidence.  The  mar- 
riage of  Joanna  witli  Louis  of  Taranto,  who  had 
been  suspected  of  conspiracy  against  her  former 
husband,  had  nearly  proved  as  fatal  in  its  conse- 
quences as  Mary's  union  with  Bothwell,  and  exposed 
her  to  the  same  dishonourable  imputations.  The 
marriage  of  Joanna  with  Louis  caused  a  rebellion 
among  her  subjects,  and  her  own  banishment  from 
her  kingdom  for  several  years :  Mary's  precipitate 
union  with  Bothwell  likewise  gave  her  subjects  an 
excuse  for  rebellion,  and  banished  her  from  her 
kingdom  for  ever. 

Louis  of  Hungary,  with  his  open  violence  and 
secret  treaclier)^  his  ceaseless  machinations  and 
deadly  irreconcilable  hatred,  played  the  same  part 
in  the  history  of  Joanna  that  Elizabeth  enacted  in 
that  of  Mary.  There  is  reason  to  imagine  that  the 
idea  of  the  black  banner,  painted  with  the  murder  of 
Darnley,  which  Mary's  rebel  subjects  paraded  before 
her  eyes  at  Carberry  Hill,  was  suggested  by  the  ter- 
rific banner  of  the  King  of  Hungary,  borne  before 
him  when  he  invaded  Naples,  and  on  which  was 
represented  the  nuu'der  of  Andreas  :  the  comcidence 
would  otherwise  be  almost  incredible. 

The  state  of  Naples  in  the  reign  of  Joanna,  ilie 
power  and  ferocity  of  the  feudal  barons,  the  uncivil- 
ized condition  and  factious  spirit  of  the  populace, 
remind  us  strongly  of  the  situation  of  Scotland  when 
Mary  succeeded  to  her  hereditary  crown ;  and  both 
Joanna  and  Mary,  as  women,  nppear  to  have  been 
strangely  misplaced  in  the  barbarous  times  in  which 
they  lived.  Mary,  a  queen,  in  her  own  capital,  saw 
David  Rizzio  stabbed  almost  before  her  eyes,  power 
less  to  save  him.  Joanna,  in  her  own  palace,  be- 
held her  seneschal,  her  nurse  Philippa,  and  her  friend 
Sancha,  dragged  from  her  side  to  perish  in  tortures 
in  both  instances,  it  happened  that  these  circum- 
stances of  horror  took  place  when  Mary  and  Joanna 
were  each  on  the  point  of  becoming  a  mother;  in 
both  instances  their  condition,  their  entreaties,  and 


212  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

their  tears  failed  to  procure  either  forbearance  or 
compassion  from  the  savages  who  outraged  them. 

But  by  far  the  most  striking  coincidence  is  the 
similarity  in  character,  conduct,  and  fate  between 
the  Earl  of  Murray  and  Charles  of  Durazzo ;  both 
were  Yemarkable  for  talents  and  accomplishments, 
equally  skilled  in  war,  in  policy,  and  intrigue  ;  both 
were  valiant,  crafty,  ambitious.  Murray  was  the 
brother  of  Queen  Mary ;  had  been  distinguished  by 
her  with  boundless  confidence  and  affection,  and  in 
the  beginning  of  her  reign  had  been  loaded  with 
benefits,  and  promoted  to  offices  of  the  highest  trust 
and  power.  Joanna  had  taken  Charles  of  Durazzo 
under  her  protection  when  an  orphan,  had  adopted 
and  cherished  him  as  a  son,  and  married  him  to  hei 
heiress.  Murray  plotted  with  Elizabeth  to  dethrone 
his  sister  and  sovereign,  and  built  his  power  on  hei 
ruin ; — Durazzo,  with  treachery  and  ingratitude  yet 
more  flagitious  and  detestable,  joined  with  Louis  of 
Hungary,  and  first  dethroned,  then  murdered  his 
benefactress.  Within  a  short  time  afterward,  Du- 
razzo was  himself  murdered  by  a  w^oman  ;  and  Mur 
ray,  within  a  few  years  after  his  accession  to  power, 
perished,  if  not  by  the  hand  or  act  of  a  woman,  yet 
the  wrongs  of  a  woman  inspired  and  armed  his 
assassin. 

Both  Mary  and  Joanna  owed  their  chief  troubles 
and  final  ruin  to  a  religious  schism ;  the}'"  both  re- 
fused in  their  latter  years  to  purchase  freedom  and 
life  by  relinquishing  their  regal  dignity ;  both  died 
in  prison,  and  by  violence.  The  imprisonment  of 
Mary  was  long  and  cruel,  and  a  sore  trial  of  her  for- 
titude. On  the  other  hand,  the  captivity  of  Joanna 
was  short,  but  her  death  horrible  to  the  imagina- 
tion,— mysterious,  frightful,  unseen,  unpitied,  and 
executed  by  vile  hands.  She  perished  as  a  victim ; 
Mary,  like  a  martyr;  by  vile  hands  indeed,  and  viler 
practice ;  but  witli  friendly  hearts  near  her,  and  al) 
Europe  looking  on  to  admire,  to  applaud,  and  to  be 
wail  her. 


(  213  " 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH. 

Before  we  enter  on  the  reign  and  character  of 
Ehzabeth,  it  is  proper  to  say  a  few  words  of  her 
sister  and  predecessor  Mary,  who  governed  Eng- 
land as  sovereign  in  her  own  right  during  five  years, 
that  is,  from  1553  to  1558. 

Mary  Tudor,  the  daughter  of  Henry  VHI.  and 
Catherine  of  Arragon,  succeeded  to  the  throne  on 
the  death  of  her  amiable  brother  Edward  VI.  The 
innocent  and  accomplished  Lady  Jane  Grey  had 
borne  the  empty  title  of  Queen  of  England  for  ten 
days  only,  and  expiated  that  involuntary  and  short- 
lived exaltation  by  a  violent  death  at  the  age  of 
seventeen.  Mary  was  in  her  39th  year  when  she 
ascended  the  throne.  Her  reign  presents  a  dark  and 
repulsive  page  in  our  history,  a  series  of  conspira- 
cies, factions,  executions,  domestic  miseries,  and  na- 
tional disgraces.  Her  character  was  like  her  gov- 
ernment, gloomy,  tyrannical,  and  sanguinary.  We 
are  told  of  the  "  sweet  uses  of  adversity  ;"  but  the 
effect  of  adversity  on  Mary's  mind  was  to  harden 
and  imbitter  a  disposition  naturally  reserved  and 
haughty.  The  persecutions  and  vexations  she  had 
endured  in  the  reigns  of  her  father  and  brother,  on 
account  of  her  adherence  to  the  Romish  faith,  had 
taught  her  to  vex  and  to  persecute  others.  Her  sour 
temper  rendered  her  one  of  the  most  unhappy  prin- 
cesses that  ever  lived,  for  she  was  unhappy  within 
herself,  as  well  as  from  external  mortifications  and 
reverses ;  and  her  whole  life  seems  to  present  the 
lingering  torment  of  a  sullen,  jealous,  irritable  dis- 
position, for  ever  preying  on  itself.  The  picture  of 
atrocious  cruelty  and  siaffering  exhibited  by  the  mar- 

I.-Q 


214  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

tyrdoms  of  her  reign  is  unrelieved,  except  by  & 
sense  of  painful  interest,  and  admiration  for  the 
sufferers  who  died  with  such  sublime  fortitude ;  but 
as  they  endured  torments,  so  did  Mary  inflict  them,— 
for  conscience'  sake.  This  wretched  woman  was 
rather  the  perverted  instrument  of  evil  than  evil  in 
herself;  what  she  perpetrated  was  not  in  fear  or  re- 
venge, or  from  any  personal  motives ;  but  from 
blinded  zeal,  and  the  idea  that  she  was  acting  for  the 
glory  of  God  and  religion.  She  executed  these  bar- 
barities with  such  a  frightful  coolness  and  uncon- 
sciousness, that  we  regard  her  with  the  same  kind 
of  horror  with  which  we  look  on  some  passive  en- 
gine of  torture, — some  wooden  rack  or  wheel  stained 
with  innocent  blood.  Mary,  though  a  remorseless 
bigot,  was  not  in  her  nature  a  wicked  woman  ;  she 
had  strong  affections,  she  had  uprightness  of  pur- 
pose, and  a  high  sense  of  her  own  and  the  nation's 
honour. 

The  principal  events  of  her  short  reign  were,  the 
burning  of  the  bishops  Ridley,  Latimer,  Cranmer, 
and  about  two  hundred  others — scenes  on  which  we 
will  not  dwell,  for  we  may  thank  God  that  in  these 
more  enlightened  times  such  agonizing  details  are 
no  longer  necessary  either  as  example  or  warning ; 
the  queen's  marriage  with  Philip  II.  of  Spain,  whom 
she  deeply  loved,  and  who  in  return  neglected  and 
despised  her ;  and  the  loss  of  Calais.  This  town, 
the  last  of  the  English  possessions  in  France,  was 
taken  from  us  in  her  reign  by  the  famous  Due  de 
Guise,  and  Mary  never  recovered  this  stain  on  the 
national  honour.  She  died  broken-hearted,  leaving 
a  name  linked  with  the  most  horrible  associations, 
and  doomed  to  bear  through  future  ages  the  most 
frightful  cognomen  ever  bestowed  by  vulgar  hatred, 
or  deserved  by  human  guilt, — that  of  bloody  Mary  ! 

Far  different  were  the  destinies  of  her  renowned 
sister; — she  who  was  prosp<;rous  in  he*-  life,  and 


ELIZABETH.  215 

since  her  death  has  been  exalted  by  historical  flat- 
tery, and  consecrated  to  popular  veneration  as  "  good 
Queen  Bess." 

Elizabeth  Tudor,  the  daughter  of  Henry  VIII.  and 
Ann  Boleyn,  was  born  at  Greenwich  in  1533.  She 
ascended  the  throne  of  England  in  1558,  being  then 
in  her  25th  year,  and  died  in  1603,  after  a  reign  of 
forty-four  years  and  'some  months  ;  comprising  an 
era  of  unexampled  interest,  not  only  in  the  history 
of  nations,  but  in  the  history  of  the  human  intellect. 
It  was  an  age  in  some  respects  resembling  our  own ; 
a  period  not  only  fertile  in  great  events,  but  in  great 
men  ;  it  was  the  age  of  heroism  and  genius,  of  won- 
derful mental  activity,  extraordinary  changes  and 
daring  enterprises,  of  fierce  struggles  for  religious  or 
political  freedom.  It  produced  a  Shakspeare,  the 
first  of  poets;  Bacon,  the  great  philosopher;  Hooker, 
the  great  divine  ;  Drake,  the  great  seaman,  and  the 
first  of  our  circumnavigators  ;  Gresham,  the  great 
merchant ;  and  Sydney,  noblest  6f  courtiers  ;  and 
Spenser,  and  Raleigh,  and  Essex,  names  renov/ned 
in  history  and  song.  In  other  countries  we  find 
Luther  the  Reformer,  and  Sully  the  statesman; 
Ariosto  and  Tasso ;  Cervantes  and  Camoens ;  Mi- 
chel Angelo,  Titian,  and  Coneggio  ;  Palestrina,  the 
father  of  Italian  music ;  all  these,  and  many  other 
famous  men  never  since  surpassed,  were  nearly 
conteraporaiy;  it  was  an  age  of  greatness,  and  our 
Elizabeth  was  great  and  illustrious  in  connexion 
with  it. 

To  separate  the  personal  from  the  political  history 
of  Elizabeth  would  not  be  difficult ;  but  it  would 
give  a  very  unjust  and  imperfect  idea  of  her  charac- 
ter. The  political  events  of  her  reign  were  of  that 
magnitude  and  importance,  that  to  give  a  distinct 
and  intelligible  account  of  them  would  require,  not 
pages,  but  volumes  ;  while  merely  to  mention  them 
in  the  order  in  which  they  occurred  would  convey 
no  nev  information  to  the  readers  of  this  little  book. 


215  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

It  is  supposed  that  tb^y  have  already  obtained  from 
those  histories  of  England  which  are  generally  read 
at  an  early  age,  a  knowledge  of  the  chief  events  of 
EUzabeth's  life,  and  the  striking  points  in  her  char- 
acter. Almost  from  our  infancy,  we  have  a  genera) 
impression  that  her  reign  is  distinguished  as  onf 
of  the  most  memorable  in  history ;  and  at  a  latei 
period  we  hear  of  the  "  Elizabethan  age,"  as  equall} 
illustrious  in  the  annals  of  our  literature.  Her  wis 
dom,  her  courage,  her  prudence,  and  her  patriotism, 
her  unconquerable  spirit,  her  excellent  laws  and  vigi- 
lant government ;  her  successes  at  home  and  abroad, 
her  wars  and  her  alliances  with  the  greatest  and 
most  powerful  princes  of  her  time  ;  the  magnificent 
position  which  England  maintained  in  her  reign,  as 
the  stronghold  of  the  reformed  religion;  her  own 
grandeur  as  the  guardian  of  the  Protestants,  and  the 
arbitress  of  Europe;  her  magnanimous  stand  in  de- 
fence of  the  national  faith  and  independence,  when 
the  Spanish  Armada  was  defeated  in  1588;  the  long 
list  of  great  men,  warriors,  statesmen,  and  poets, 
■who  sustained  her  throne,  who  graced  her  court, 
obeyed  her  slightest  word,  lived  in  her  smiles,  and 
"  worshipped  as  she  passed ;"  all  these  things  are 
familiar  to  young  people  almost  from  the  time  they 
can  remember,  and  they  leave  a  strong  and  magnifi- 
cent impression  on  the  fancy.  As  we  grow  older, 
and  become  acquainted  with  the  particular  details  of 
history,  we  begin  to  perceive  with  surprise  that  this 
splendid  array  of  great  names  and  great  achieve- 
ments has  another  and  a  far  different  aspect.  On 
looking  nearer,  we  behold  on  the  throne  o?  Eng- 
land a  woman  whose  avarice  and  jealousy,  whose 
envious,  relentless,  and  malignant  spirit,  whose 
coarse  manners  and  violent  temper,  render  her  de- 
testable ;  whose  pedantry  and  meanness,  whose 
childish  vanity  and  intense  selfishness,  render  her 
contemptible.  We  see  England,  the  country  of 
freedom,  ruled  3'*  absolutely  as  any  Turkish  prov 


ELIZABETH.  217 

ince  by  this  imperious  sultana  and  her  ^rand  vizier 
Burleigh ; — we  see  human  blood  poured  out  like 
water  on  the  scaffold;  and  persec  ution,  torture,  and 
even  death  again  inflicted  for  the  sake  of  religion ; — 
we  see  great  men,  whose  names  are  the  glory  of 
their  country,  pining  in  neglect;  and  a  base,  un- 
worthy favourite  revelling  in  power.  We  read  and 
learn  these  things  with  astonishment:  we  find  it 
difficult  to  reconcile  such  apparent  contradictions, 
and  are  at  a  loss  to  conceive  whence  they  could 
have  arisen,  and  how  they  could  ever  have  existed. 
It  will  therefore  be  something  new  and  amusing  to 
endeavour  to  explain  and  account  for  them  in  a  clear 
and  comprehensive  manner. 

Within  the  century  inmiediately  preceding  the 
reign  of  Elizabeth  occurred  the  three  greatest  events 
which,  since  the  redemption  of  mankind,  have  taken 
place  in  this  our  world :  the  invention  of  printing, 
which  took  place  about  1448 — the  discovery  of 
America  in  1492 — and  the  reformation  in  1517.  The 
first,  by  rendering  knowledge  more  accessible,  pre- 
pared the  way  for  the  two  last ;  and  Luther,  when 
he  plunged  into  a  sea  of  difficulties  and  dangers  to 
bring  to  light  the  errors  of  the  church  of  Rome,  was 
as  bold  a  man  as  Columbus,  when  he  launched  on 
the  wide  Atlantic  in  search  of  unknown  worlds. 
The  reformation  and  the  discovert'  of  America  were 
destined  to  produce  a  w^onderful  and  beneficial  effect 
on  posterity  ;  yet  the  immediate  result  of  both  was 
similar  and  sad  \  both  began  by  causing  much  crime, 
and  bloodshed,  and  strife  between  man  and  man,  ai 
the  same  time  that  they  roused  and  called  into  action 
energies  hitherto  unknown.  The  first  wild,  agi- 
tating ferment  w  as  beginning  to  subside  into  a  bold, 
settled  activity  ;  and  the  light  which  had  been  strug- 
gling through  clouds  of  violence  and  ignorance  began 
to  shine  forth  with  a  steady  splendour  when  Eliza- 
beth, under  happy  and  glorious  auspices,  ascended 
the  throne  ;  and  being  thus,  by  position  and  accident, 


218  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

a  conspicuous  person  in  an  illustrious  age,  vfhsA 
wonder  is  it  that  a  part  of  its  glory  fell  upon  her,  as 
the  most  promip-tnt  objects  catch  and  reflect  most 
brightly  the  light  around  them  ? 

Religion. — During  the  life  of  her  sister  Mary, 
Elizabeth  was  suspected  of  favouring  the  reformed 
doctrines;  hut  she  outwardly  conformed  herself  to 
all  the  ceremonies  of  the  Romish  church,  and  she 
afterward  gave  sufficient  proof  that  in  her  secret 
soul  she  was  no  more  of  a  real  Protestant  than  he? 
father.  When  she  first  came  to  the  throne,  she  had 
not,  apparently,  decided  on  the  course  she  was  to 
pursue  in  matters  of  religion.  She  sent  the  usual 
dutiful  notification  of  her  accession  to  the  court  of 
Rome ;  and  had  the  reigning  pontiff  returned  a  be- 
nignant answer,  there  is  no  knowing  what  might 
have  been  the  consequences,  at  least  for  the  time; 
but  Paul  IV.  (Caraffa),  an  arrogant,  fiery-spirited  old 
man,  assumed  on  this  occasion  a  tone  which  he 
thought  became  the  infallible  representative  of  St. 
Peter.  He  thundered  forth  his  displeasure  at  her 
presumption  in  daring  to  assume  the  crown  of  Eng- 
land without  his  permission,  and  commanded  her  to 
submit  herself  to  the  holy  see,  on  pain  of  excon> 
munication.  Elizabeth,  never  inclined  to  submit, 
was  alarmed  and  disgusted.  She  immediately  took 
the  title  of  Head  of  the  Church,  to  the  great  scandal 
of  the  Roman  Oathohcs;  aixl,  it  may  be  added,  to 
the  great  scandal  of  all  religion,  considering  her  sex, 
her  age,  and  the  power  she  took  upon  herself  at  so 
critical  a  period.  Thenceforward  she  was  resolved 
to  allow  no  foreign  interference  in  religious  affairs, 
and  there  she  was  right :  but  neither  would  she  ad- 
mit of  advice  from  the  wise,  aged,  learned,  and  vir- 
tuous ecclesiastics  of  her  own  kingdom ;  and  liere 
she  was  wrong,  unwise,  and  presumptuous.  The 
dangers  to  which  she  was  subjected  from  her  de- 
fiance of  the  pope,  and  the  resolute  spirit  with  which 
she  met  and  repelled  theni^  were  the  foundation  oi 


ELIZABETH.  219 

her  popularity ;  so  that  she  was  regarded  as  the  he- 
rome  of  the  English  church,  and  her  accession  was 
long  celebrated  by  the  people  as  "  the  birth-day  of 
the  gospei."*  But  assuredly  no  thought  of  the  gos- 
pel, and  its  pure  and  humble  principles  of  action,  en- 
tered into  Eliz?<beth's  mind  in  regulating  the  faith 
of  her  subjects.  That  she  had  not  the  slightest  idea 
of  toleration  in  such  matters  is  not  surprising,  since 
it  is  only  lately  that  people  have  begun  to  understand 
and  practise  it :  but  her  audacity  was  really  extraor- 
dinary. She  told  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  that 
she  would  allow  of  no  deviation  from  her  will,  and 
that  "  she  was  resolved  that  no  man  should  be  su/- 
fered  to  decline  either  on  the  left  or  the  right-hand 
from  the  drawn  line  limited  by  her  authority  and 
injunctions."! 

In  pursuance  of  this  plan,  she  persecuted  both  the 
Roman  Catholics  and  the  stricter  Protestants  (then 
first  called  Puritans)  with  the  most  relentless  rigour. 
Two  persons  were  burned  in  Smithfield ;  many  suf- 
fered other  infanious  and  cruel  punishments.  In  the 
course  of  fourteen  years  only,  it  appears  that  sixty- 
one  clergymen,  forty-seven  laymen,  and  two  gentle- 
women suffered  death  on  account  of  religion ;  and 
many  thousands  endured  imprisonment,  exile,  fines, 
and  other  miseries. 

This  odious  and  short-sighted  method  of  repress- 
ing religious  differences  had  the  usual  effect.  Eliza- 
beth's excessive  severity  against  the  Puritans  in- 
creased so  much  the  number  and  strength  of  that 
sect,  that  forty  years  after  the  death  of  Ehzabeth 
they  hurled  Charles  the  First  from  his  throne,  and 
shook  the  throne  itself  to  its  foundations.  But  the 
queen  could  not  dream  of  such  a  consummation: 
though  her  wisdom  was  great,  it  was  confined  within 
a  narrow  circle  by  self-will  and  selfishness.  She 
was  guided  by  expediency,  not  by  the  love  of  truth.:[ 

*  Miss  Aikin,  vol.  i.  p  820,  et  sec.        t  Hume,  vol.  v.  p.  454,  Appendix 
%  Aikin,  vol.  i.  p.  319 


220  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

She  would  allow  no  innovations  in  religion  but  just 
those  which  were  necessary  to  separate  her  effect- 
ually from  all  dependence  on  the  authority  of  the 
Roman  church ;  because  her  own  political  existence 
as  a  sovereign,  nay,  her  very  life,  depended  on  this : 
but  all  her  feelings  and  despotic  prejudices  were  on 
the  side  of  the  old  religion.  Thus,  she  was  most 
impatient  of  preachers  and  preaching.  She  said 
"  two  or  three  were  enough  for  a  whole  county.** 
She  was  an  enemy  to  sermons,  and  was  known  to 
call  out  in  her  chapel,  and  command  the  preacher  to 
|uit  a  subject  that  was  disagreeable,  or  an  exhorta- 
tion too  bold.  She  was  with  difficulty  persuaded  to 
allow  the  communion-table  to  be  substituted  for  the 
high  altar  and  crucifix ;  and  when  the  theatres  were 
first  licensed,  plays  were  permitted  only  on  the  Sun- 
day, which  was  then  a  festival,  and  not  a  Sabbath. 
She  hated  that  the  clergy  should  be  married,  and 
openly  insulted  the  wife  of  Archbishop  Parker. 
The  archbishop  had  been  chaplain  to  her  mother, 
'Inne  Boleyn;  and  there  was  nothing  in  which 
Elizabeth  displayed  more  good  sense  and  good  feel- 
ing than  in  the  favour  she  showed  to  all  the  relations 
and  friends  of  her  unfortunate  mother ;  at  the  same 
time  that  she  refrained  from  bringing  forward  the 
question  of  her  divorce,  and  buried  in  silence  all  that 
could  reflect  on  the  memory  of  her  father.  Parker 
was  distinguished  by  her  in  the  beginning  of  her 
reign,  and  she  frequently  visited  him  at  his  palace  at 
Lambeth.  On  one  of  these  occasions,  when  she  had 
been  feasted  with  particular  splendour  by  the  arch- 
bishop and  his  wife,  she  thanked  the  former  with 
many  gracious  expressions ;  then  turning  to  Mrs. 
Parker,  "And  you,"  said  she,  "  madam  I  may  not  call 
you;  mistress  I  am  ashamed  to  call  you;  so  I  know  not 
what  to  call  you;  but  yet  I  do  thank  you."  Parker  him- 
self ended  his  life  in  disgrace,  because  he  was  not  suf- 
ficiently subservient  to  her  will.  Archbishop  GrindaJ, 
a  most  conscientious  and  worthy  prelate,  ventured 


ELIZABETH.  221 

to  remonstrate  against  her  religious  despotism,  as 
unbecoming-,  and  to  remind  her  that  she  too  was  ac- 
countable to  God,  and  ought  not  to  take  upon  her- 
self to  decide  points  better  left  to  the  management 
of  the  bishops.  Elizabeth  was  furious ;  the  good 
archbishop  remained  in  disgrace,  and  was  forbidden 
to  exercise  the  duties  of  his  office.  The  anger  of 
Elizabeth  continued  for  five  years,  during  which  the 
prelate  was  suspended  and  banished  from  the  court ; 
and  then  the  old  man,  growing  blind,  resigned  his 
dignity  and  retired :  he  died  in  1583.  Elizabeth  was 
then  resolved  to  choose  an  Archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury who  would  neither  interfere  with  her  nor  con- 
trol her.  She  raised  Whitgift  to  that  dignity :  a  man 
of  a  severe  and  tyrannical  spirit,  whose  sentiments 
and  views  agreed  with  her  own.  A  court  called  the 
"  High  Commission,"  exercised  the  same  kind  of 
jurisdiction  in  the  reign  of  Elizabeth  as  the  dreadful 
Inquisition  in  Spain.  It  was  a  court  instituted  to 
take  cognizance  of  all  religious  delinquencies,  heresy, 
and  contumacy ;  and  its  measures  were,  in  reality, 
quite  as  arbitrary,  though  its  punishments  were  nei- 
ther so  cruel,  nor  so  secret,  nor  so  numerous,  as 
those  of  the  Roman  Catholic  tribunal. 

Government. — It  must  be  admitted  that  Eliza- 
beth's foreign  policy,  her  wars,  treaties,  and  alhances 
with  the  states  of  Europe,  were  most  admirably 
managed ;  and,  in  particular,  the  principle  of  never 
making  war  but  in  self-defence  cannot  be  too  highly 
praised :  and  though  it  has  been  asserted  that  she 
adhered  to  this  principle  from  avarice  or  policy, 
rather  than  from  Christian  or  feminine  feeling,  yet 
let  her  have  all  the  commendation  she  deserves,  for 
bequeathing  to  posterity  the  proof  and  the  example, 
that  a  sovereign  may  obtain  the  highest  respect  and 
renown,  without  aspiring  to  conquest,  and  leading 
armies  to  invade  and  rob  their  neighbours.  Ajiother 
characteristic  of  Elizabeth's  government  s.)  home 
and  abroad  was  its  consistency.    She  was  nc  t  in  the 


222  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

habit  of  chan^ng  her  ministers  and  counsellors  with 
every  change  of  public  opinion ;  there  was  no  going 
in  or  out  of  office  on  slight  occasions.  The  same 
men  served  her  in  the  same  capacities  nearly  through 
her  reign,  and  this  gave  extraordinary  stability  to  all 
her  purposes.  Lord  Burleigh  was  her  prime  minis- 
ter for  forty  years.  His  son  Robert  Cecil,  Wal- 
singham,  Throckmorton,  and  Davison,  secretaries  ; 
Sir  Walter  Mildmay,  chancellor  of  the  exchequer; 
Sir  Francis  Knolles,  Sir  Nicholas  Bacon,  and  his  son 
Francis  Bacon,  were  among  the  most  remarkable 
and  influential  of  the  statesmen  of  her  time.  It  is 
true  that  Sir  Christopher  Hatton  owed  his  rise  to 
his  graceful  person  and  his  skill  in  dancing ;  and  that 
Leicester  was  indebted  for  her  favour  merely  to  his 
superficial  accomplishments :  these,  however,  were 
among  the  few  exceptions.  In  general  she  was  not 
governed  by  caprice  in  the  choice  of  her  ministers, 
and  they  were  as  faithful  to  her  as  she  was  steady 
to  them. 

Her  chief  foreign  enemy  was  Philip  the  Second, 
who  had  married  her  sister,  and  afterward  wished 
to  marry  herself.  Him,  though  he  wielded  the 
power  and  resources  of  half  the  known  world,  she 
defied  from  her  little  kingdom,  and  was  uniformly 
successful  against  him.  She  assisted  the  Dutch  in 
their  war  against  the  Spanish  tyranny :  though, 
when  at  first  they  sought  her  help,  and  offered  her 
the  sovereignty  of  the  Low  Countries,  she  refused 
them,  in  terms  of  contempt,  telling  them  it  was  un- 
reasonable to  have  stirred  up  so  great  a  commotion 
merely  on  account  of  the  mass,  and  upbraiding  them 
with  their  rebellion.  But  she  afterward  redeemed 
herself  nobly  and  wisely,  for  she  found  it  more 
politic  to  combat  Philip  the  Second  in  Holland  than 
on  the  soil  of  her  native  England.  The  whole  his 
tory  of  this  war  of  liberty  against  despotism  is  most 
interesting,  and  many  of  Elizabeth's  bravest  com 
manders  and  most  accomplished   courtiers   distin 


ELIZABETH.  223 

guished  themselves  in  it,  particularly  Sir  Philip 
Sichiey,  who  perished  at  Zutphen  ;  Peregrine  Bertie, 
Lord  Willoughby,  and  Sir  Francis  Vere.  Holland 
became,  in  fact,  a  school  of  arms  for  the  youn^ 
nobility.  As  to  Elizabeth's  conduct  in  Scotland  and 
Ireland,  it  may  truly  be  said  that  her  policy  towards 
Scotland  was  the  most  perfidious,  and  towards  Ire- 
land the  most  atrociously  cruel  and  impolitic,  that 
ever  was  pursued  by  any  Christian  sovereign.  She 
hated  the  latter  country,  because  she  derived  no 
revenue  from  it,  and  it  was  a  constant  source  of 
trouble  and  expense  to  her ;  no  measures  but  those 
of  extreme  rigour  were  resorted  to,  and  accordingly, 
during  her  w^hole  reign,  we  find  Ireland  a  scene  of 
frightful  contests  and  mutual  massacre.  "  The 
English,"  says  Hume,  "  instead  of  inviting  the  Irish 
to  adopt  the  more  civihzed  customs  of  their  con- 
querors, even  refused,  though  earnestly  soHcited,  to 
communicate  to  them  the  privilege  of  their  laws,  and 
everywhere  marked  them  out  as  aliens  and  as  ene- 
mies. Thrown  out  of  the  protection  of  justice,  the 
natives  could  find  no  security  but  in  force ;  and  fly- 
ing the  neighbourhood  of  cities,  which  they  could 
not  approach  with  safety,  they  sheltered  themselves 
in  their  marshes  and  forests  from  the  insolence  of 
their  inhuman  masters.  Being  treated  like  wild 
beasts,  they  became  such;  and  joining  the  ardour 
of  revenge  to  their  untamed  barbarity,  they  grew 
every  day  more  intractable  and  more  dangerous."* 

The  lord-deputy  (as  the  lord-lieutenant  of  Ire- 
land was  called  in  those  days)  had  a  most  difficult 
part  to  act.  All  Elizabeth's  generals  and  courtiers 
abhorred  the  Irish  service,  for  it  procured  them 
neither  thanks  nor  reputation.  They  never  could 
succeed  in  pleasing  their  imperious  mistress,  who 
demanded  unrelenting  rigour  on  their  part,  and  the 
slightest  remissness  of  severity  was  construed  into 

•  Hume,  vol.  v.  p.  396. 


224  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS 

high-treason.  If  the  revenue  fell  short,  she  swore 
at  them  all  for  "idle  knaves;"  and  the  discassion 
of  the  Irish  affairs  was  sure  to  produce  a  fit  of 
ill-temper.  The  most  celebrated  of  these  deputies 
were  Sir  Henry  Sidney,  Lord  Gray,  Walter  Earl 
of  Essex,  and  Sir  John  Perrot.  The  latter,  who 
was  the  most  enlightened  and  humane  of  them  all, 
had  nearly  been  brought  to  the  block  in  consequence 
of  his  Irish  administration.  The  young  favourite 
Essex  and  the  gallant  Lord  Mountjoy  also  com- 
manded in  Ireland,  much  to  their  own  discontent, 
and  not  much  to  the  content  of  their  queen. 

As  for  the  domestic  government  of  Elizabeth,  it 
was  prudent,  firm,  and  vigilant,  on  the  principle  of 
self-preservation  and  self-interest,  rather  than  of 
enlightened  benevolence.  To  increase  her  reve- 
nues, to  increase  her  power,  to  govern  without  a 
parliament,  to  preserve  the  country  from  all  enemies 
without,  and  her  throne  and  person  from  all  enemies 
within; — these  were  the  principles  on  which  she 
acted,  and  these  the  ends  she  pursued.  But  to 
spread  instruction  among  her  subjects,  to  extend 
freedom,  to  "  scatter  blessings  round  the  land ;" 
these  formed  no  part  of  her  plan.  She  referred 
every  thing  to  self.  Her  best  qualities  fitted  her  to 
take  the  helm  of  government  in  times  when  it 
required  a  strong  hand  to  grasp  the  sceptre.  She 
was  at  once  fearless  and  cautious,  firm  and  artful, 
frugal  and  ostentatious ;  she  could  trample  down 
pride,  repel  presumption,  retort  insult,  and  defy 
danger.  But  when  did  she  comfort  or  help  the 
weak-hearted  ?  or  raise  up  the  fallen  ]  or  exalt 
humble  merit  ?  or  cherish  unobtrusive  genius  ?  or 
spare  the  offending  ?  or  pardon  the  guilty  ? — The 
numbers  that  perished  in  her  reign  for  high-treason 
exceed  belief;  nor  is  it  necessary  to  shock  young 
readers  with  the  details  ;  it  is  sufficient  just  to  men- 
tion that  eight  hundred  persons  were  hanged  after 


ELIZABETH.  22«) 

the  "  Rising  in  the  North."*  Yet  Elkabeth  did  not 
think  that  due  severity  had  been  exercised  ;  and  the 
Earl  of  Sussex,  who  commanded  there,  complains 
of  the  "hangman's  office"  to  which  he  had  been 
called,  and  tlie  difficulty  of  giving-  content  at  court. 
If  the  horrid  butchering  barbarity  of  some  of  these 
executions,  as  those  of  Arden,  Tichborne,  and  the 
Babingtons,  be  imputed  to  the  times,  it  shows  that 
Elizabeth's  humanity,  like  her  wisdom,  could  not  go 
beyond  that  of  the  age  in  which  she  lived.  In  spite 
of  her  just  and  real  popularity,  plots,  conspiracies, 
revolts  were  of  constant  recurrence  ;  and  we  find 
the  noblest  famihes  of  that  time,  the  Howards, 
Fitzalans,  Percies,  Nevils,  Pagets,  with  their  adhe- 
rents, suffering  for  high-treason,  and  constantly  in 
ooen  or  secret  rebellion  against  her. 

Of  her  arbitrary  power,  and  the  extent  of  her 
prerogative,  some  instances  are  amusing,  some 
astonishing,  some  disgusting.  It  was  allowed  in 
parliament  "  that  she  was  absolute — that  she  had  the 
power  to  release  herself  from  any  law — that  she 
was  a  species  of  divinity."!  Her  proclamation— 
that  is,  the  public  expression  of  her  royal  will — was 
equal  in  effect  to  the  law  of  the  land.  By  one  of 
these  proclamations  her  subjects  w^ere  forbidden  to 
wear  their  ruffs  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  yard  in 
width,  and  their  rapiers  more  than  a  yard  long.  It 
was  in  vain  the  preachers  thundered  against  the 
"  Devil's  kingdom  of  great  ruffs,"  as  it  was  called  in 
those  days ;  and  Elizabeth,  although  most  partial  to 
this  appendage  of  dress,  as  we  may  see  from  her 
pictures,  was  determined  not  to  allow  her  people  to 
go  beyond  the  degree  of  extravagance  and  absurdity 
she  thought  becoming  to  herself.*  Officers  were 
appointed  to  tear  the  ruffs  and  break  the  rapiers  of 
those  who  transgressed  the  queen's  edict  against 
them.     This  reminds  us  of  the  Czar  Peter  shaving 

♦  Hume.  T  Hume,  vol.  v.  p.  463-441 


226  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

off  the  beards  of  his  loving  subjects  by  means  of 
official  barbers. 

There  is  a  proclamation  inserted  in  Burney's 
History  of  Music,  by  which  any  private  musician, 
any  singing  man  or  boy  who  excelled  in  his  art, 
might  be  pressed  into  the  service  of  the  royal 
chapel.  Another  prohibits  the  cultivation  of  woad, 
a  plant  most  useful  and  valuable  in  our  mariufac- 
tures,  because  her  majesty  disliked  the  smell  of  it. 
These  and  some  other  acts  of  capricious  power 
may  sound  rather  ludicrous  than  terrible,  but  at  the 
time  were  productive  of  much  private  loss  and 
misery.  By  another  proclamation,  if  there  was 
an  affray  or  riot  in  the  streets,  the  provost-marshal 
might  seize  aij  offender,  and  hang  him  up  without 
further  trouble. 

In  parliament,  it  happened  almost  every  session 
that  members  were  arrested  and  sent  to  the  Tower 
for  too  great  freedom  of  speech  ;*  and  sometimes 
she  would  "  rate  the  Commons  soundly,"  and  they, 
like  beaten  children,  submitted ;  complimented  her 
on  her  saving  grace  and  all-preventing  goodness, 
and  offered  up  the  "  last  breath  of  their  nostrils,  and 
the  last  drop  of  blood  in  their  hearts,  to  be  breathed 
forth, — to  be  poured  out  for  her  safety."  None  of 
the  nobility  could  marry,  and  no  man  could  travel 
out  of  England,  without  the  royal  permission. 
These  prerogatives  were  claimed  both  by  her  pre- 
decessors and  successors,  but  were  exercised  by 
Elizabeth  with  peculiar  rigour  in  many  cases.  Lord 
Hertford  was  imprisoned  during  nine  years  for  con- 
tracting a  marriage  displeasing  to  her.f     The   ac- 

*  Hume,  vol.  v.  p.  ■^S. 

t  With  Lady  Catherine  Grey,  younger  sister  of  Lady  Jane  Grey,  and 
a.tor  her  death  the  heiress  of  her  pretensions  to  the  crown  :  which  was 
enous^h  to  awaken  Elizabeth's  jealousy.  The  history  of  Lord  and  Lady 
Hertford  is  a  complete  romance,  and  a  very  tragical  one  :  it  may  be 
found  briefly  related  in  Hume  ;  more  at  leimth  in  Miss  Aikin's  Memoirs 
of  Queen  Elizabeth ;  and  in  Ellis's  Collection  are  several  letters  fronn 
©r  concerning  this  niost  unfortunate  Ladv  Catheiine   some  of  which 


ELIZABETH.  227 

complished  Earl  of  Southampton  for  four  years  en- 
treated permission  to  marry  Elizabeth  Vernon,  a 
beautiful  girl  of  the  court,  and  cousin  to  his  friend 
Lord  Essex.  The  queen  could  not  be  induced  to 
consent,  and  when,  wearied  by  this  tyranny,  tliey 
had  recourse  to  a  secret  marriage,  she  caused  them 
to  be  separated,  and  sent  to  the  Tower  for  several 
months.  Many  other  instances  of  the  same  kind 
of  petty  and  vexatious  despotism  and  envious  temper 
might  easily  be  enumerated. 

Commerce. — Manufactures,  trade,  and  navigation 
made  great  progress  in  Elizabeth's  reign:  but  her 
encouragement  of  commerce  went  no  farther  than 
the  mere  improvement  of  her  revenues  by  the 
shortest  means,  and  these  means  were  so  far  from 
being  beneficial  in  themselves,  or  worthy  of  a  wise 
and  enlightened  sovereign,  that  they  strike  us  as  ex- 
ceedingly barbarous.*  For  instance,  she  would  sell 
to  certain  individuals  the  privilege  of  dealing  in  some 
particular  commodity  ;  and  for  any  other  person  to 
sell  it  was  as  illegal  as  smuggling  is  now.  This  was 
called  a  monopoly.  It  was  as  if,  in  these  days,  one 
individual  alone  had  a  right  to  sell  sugar,  and  all 
other  persons  were  obliged  to  go  to  his  shop  and  buy 
it  of  him  at  any  price  he  might  choose  to  put  on  it. 
But  in  Elizabeth's  time  there  were  monopolies  of 
salt,  coals,  iron,  lead,  and  tin ;  oil  and  vinegar,  glass, 
brushes,  beer,  wine,  leather  ;  in  short,  fifty  or  sixty 
articles  among  the  comforts  and  even  necessaries  of 
life,  which  were  thus  in  the  hands  of  one  dealer, 
who  could  alone  supply  all  others.  To  Lord  Essex 
the  queen  gave  the  monopoly  of  wines.     It  should 

cannat  be  perused  without  the  most  painful  compassion,  mingled  with 
horror  of  that  tyrannous  abuse  of  power  and  sejfish  cruelty  of  which 
•he  was  the  victim.  She  died  broken-hearted  in  consequence  of  the  un- 
relenting rigour  of  Elizabeth,  and  her  long  separation  from  her  husband, 
entreating  with  her  last  breath  that  the  queen  would  graciously  "  send 
liberty  to  him  as  the  only  thing  that  could  alleviate  his  sorrow  for  hen 
loss."  Lord  Hertford  was  not  liberated  till  five  years  after  her  death. 
*  Hume,  vol.  v.  p.  477. 


228  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

be  observed,  that  not  only  the  high  prices  of  these 
things  thus  became  a  great  hardship,  and  discouraged 
the  use  of  them,  but  the  right  of  the  monopohst  to 
search  the  houses  of  those  who  were  suspected  of 
having  these  commodities  illegally,  gave  rise  to  the 
most  intolerable  private  and  public  oppression  ever 
known  in  a  country  which  had  the  least  pretensions 
to  be  called  free.  The  grandest  of  these  monopolies, 
that  of  the  East  India  Company,  by  which  a  certain 
set  of  persons  had  the  exclusive  right  of  trading  to 
certain  countries,  has  lasted  to  our  time. 

The  religious  persecutions  in  France  and  the  Neth- 
erlands induced  many  manufacturers  in  woollen  and 
cutlery  to  settle  here.  Elizabeth  generously  and 
wisely  encouraged  them ;  and  we  date  the  rise  of  our 
manufactures  from  her  reign.  Spilman  set  up  the 
first  paper-mill  at  Dartford  in  1590.  Watches  and 
coaches  were  first  introduced.  It  appears  that  the 
first  coach  was  brought  from  Holland  by  William 
Boonen,  a  Dutchman,  in  1564,  who  was  Queen  Eliza- 
beth's coachman.  "  And,  indeed,"  says  a  contem- 
porary, "  a  coach  was  a  strange  monster  in  those 
days,  and  the  sight  of  it  put  both  horse  and  man  into 
amazement ; — some  said  it  was  a  great  crab-shell 
brought  out  of  China;  and  some  imagined  it  to  be 
one  of  the  pagan  temples,  in  which  the  cannibals 
adored  the  Devil."  But  in  spite  of  these  strange 
doubts  and  fears,  the  use  of  coaches  soon  became 
general,  and  even  (as  it  was  deemed)  "excessive  and 
superfluous."  When  we  hear  of  Elizabeth  riding  to 
the  House  of  Peers  on  a  pillion  in  the  beginning  of 
her  reign,  we  should  not  forget  that  towards  the  end 
of  it  she  is  represented  as  taking  an  airing  in  her 
coach  every  day. 

The  trade  with  Turkey  and  Russia  first  began  in 
the  reign  of  Elizabeth ;  she  was  the  first  sovereign 
who  sent  ambassadors  to  these  courts. 

The  trade  to  the  Mediterranean  and  Levant  was 
also  carried  on  to  a  great  extent,  and  was  the  means 


ELIZABETH.  229 

of  introducing  into  England  the  common  use  of  lux- 
uries and  conveniences  before  unknown.  Mirrors 
and  drinking-glasses  from  Venice  were  now  met  with 
in  the  citizens'  houses;  but  it  was  regarded  as  a  piece 
of  splendour  truly  royal  when  Elizabeth  ordered  her 
bath-room  at  Windsor  to  be  wainscoted  with  Vene- 
tian looking-glass.  The  first  porcelain  seen  in  Eng- 
land was  the  cargo  of  a  Spanish  carrack,  taken  on 
its  return  from  the  East  Indies,  and  it  excited  great 
admiration.  The  use  of  damask  table-linen  was  in- 
troduced about  the  same  time  from  Holland ;  before 
that  time  tables  were  covered  with  w^ooUen  carpets 
or  tapestry,  such  as  we  see  in  the  ol(f  pictures.  In 
the  midst  of  these  improvements  and  luxuries  the  use 
of  forks  remained  unknown,  and  Queen  Elizabeth 
ate  with  her  fingers.* 

It  is  a  vulgar  idea  that  Elizabeth's  maids  of  honour 
breakfasted  on  beefsteaks  and  ale,  and  that  wine  was 
such  a  rarity  as  to  be  sold  only  by  apothecaries  as 
a  cordial.  The  science  of  good  living  v^'as  as  well 
understood  in  those  days  as  it  is  now,  though  the 
fashion  might  be  somewhat  different;  the  nobility 
had  French  cooks,  and  among  the  dishes  enumerated 
we  find  "  not  only  beef,  mutton,  veal,  lamb,  kid,  pork, 
rabbit,  capon,  pig,"  but  also  red  or  fallow  deer,  and 
great  variety  of  fish  and  wild  fowl,  with  pastry  and 
creams,  Italian  confections,  and  preserved  fruits,  and 
sweetmeats  from  Portugal ;  nay,  we  are  even  told 
of  cherries  served  up  at  "  tvrenty  shillings  a  pound."t 
The  variety  of  wines  can  hardly  be  exceeded  even 
at  present ;  for  a  writer  of  Elizabeth's  time  mentions 
fil'ty-six  different  kinds  of  French  v/ine,  and  thirty- 
•six  Spanish  and  Italian  wines  imported  into  England. 
Daindes  for  the  table  were  among  the  offerings 
which  Elizabeth's  courtiers  and  ladies  were  in  tlie 
hubit  of  presenting  to  her  ;  but  it  is  just  to  add,  that 

*  The  use  of  forks  was  first  int'oduted  from  Italy  in  the  beginning  at 
.he  T.ext  reign,  about  161  i. 

t  Drake's  Ohalcsptare,  -vi.  ii.      '^2?,  et  seq. 


239  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

she  was  herself  temperate,  though  nice  in  her  eating. 
Her  household  appears  to  have  been  maintained  with 
becominf?  splendour,  and  there  was  in  particular  a 
good  allowance  o''  wine  for  the  inferior  tables.* 

In  navigation  almost  every  thing  was  achieved  by 
private  industry  and  enterprise,  though  Elizabeth 
and  her  government  had  the  glory  and  the  praise. 
Numbers  of  noblemen  and  gentlemen,  who  fitted  out 
vessels  at  their  own  expense,  either  to  trade  with 
America  and  the  south  of  Europe,  or  to  attack  the 
Spaniards,  contributed  to  form  excellent  sailors,  and 
nourish  a  spirit  of  daring  enterprise,  which  prepared 
the  future  greatness  of  our  navy.  The  Earl  of  Cum- 
berland, Drake,  Hawkins,  Raleigh,  Cavendish,  Davis 
(who  discovered  Davis's  Straits),  were  among  the 
most  distinguished  of  these  bold  and  brave  men. 
Sir  Francis  Drake  was  the  first  ot  mortals  who  sailed 
entirely  round  the  world,  for  Magellan,  who  made 
the  first  attempt,  died  before  he  had  completed  the 
voyage. 

Learning  and  Arts. — With  regard  to  the  state  of 
learning,  it  has  been  truly  said,  that  this  queen,  who 
understood  Latin  and  Greek,  and  spoke  several  lan- 
guages of  Europe,  was  much  fonder  of  displaying  her 
own  learning  than  encouraging  the  learned.f  But 
her  reign  is  considered  the  golden  period  of  our  lite- 
rature ;  and  the  English  language  was  then  written 
with  such  purity,  strength,  and  elegance,  that  the 
best  writers  of  that  time,  as  Shakspeare,  Bacon,  Sid- 
ney, Raleigh,  Hooker,  are  now  regarded  as  models 
of  style,  and  prepared  the  way  for  that  magnificent 
standard  of  our  language  the  English  Bible,  which 
was  completed  in  the  next  reign.  The  letters  of  the 
unhappy  Earl  of  Essex,  though  he  was  no  author, 
are  exquisite  specimens  of  style.     Queen  Elizabeth's 

*  Towards  the  latter  end  of  her  reign  her  parsimony  seems  to  have 
extended  even  to  the  details  of  her  household  ;— "  At  court,  ill-breeding 
and  ill-feedingy"  says  the  epigrammatic  Harrington. 

t  Hume 


ELIZA   LTH.  231 

own  compositions  show  that  she  was  excelled  as  a 
writer  by  all  the  leading  personages  of  her  court. 
Some  of  her  short  letters  have  indeed  a  degree  ot 
coarse  energy,  if  that  be  any  merit ;  but  in  general 
her  prose  is  involved,  obscure,  and  stiff,  far  unlike 
that  of  her  elegant  rival,  Mary  Stuart,  who  wrote 
English  well,  and  whose  French  style  might  be  taken 
as  a  model  of  the  language  in  those  times.  Of  her 
verse,  a  contemporary  flatterer  assures  us  that  the 
queen's  "  learned,  delicate,  and  noble  muse  easily 
surmounteth  all  the  rest  that  have  written  before  lier 
time  or  since,  for  sense,  sweetness,  and  subtilitie,  be 
]t  ode,  elegie,  epigram,  or  any  other  kind  of  poeme, 
heroick  or  lyricke,  wherein  it  shall  please  her  ma- 
jesty to  employ  her  penne,  even  by  as  much  oddes 
as  her  own  excellent  estate  and  degree  exceedeth  all 
the  rest  of  her  most  humble  vassals."*  It  is  worth 
while  to  quote  a  specimen  of  the  contemptible  trash 
on  which  this  eulogium  was  bestowed  : — the  follow- 
ing lines  are  the  commencement  of  her  best  poem. 

'  That  doubt  of  future  foes  exiles  my  future  joy ; 
And  wit  me  warns  to  shun  such  snares  as  threaten  mine  annoy : 
For  Falsehood  now  doth  flow,  and  subjects'  faith  doth  ebb, 
Which  would  not  be  if  Reason  ruled,  or  Wisdom  weaved  the  webb 
But  clouds  of  toys  untry'd  do  cloak  aspiring  minds. 
Which  turn  to  rain,  of  late  repent,  by  course  of  changed  winds. 
The  top  of  hope  suppos'd  the  root  of  ruth  will  be, 
And  fruitless  all  their  graffed  guiles,  as  shortly  ye  shall  see."  &c.  &c. 

The  treatment  which  Spenser  met  with  in  her  court 
—Spenser,  who  exalted  her  in  his  "  Faery  Queen," 
and  celebrated  her  in  strains  divine  to  hear — is  well 
known ; — he  pined  away  "  with  crosses  and  with 
cares,"  and  died  in  neglect  and  poverty.  Raleigh 
and  Sidney  had  been  his  patrons,  as  Essex  and  South- 
ampton were  the  friends  and  patrons  of  Shakspeare  ; 
whatever  countenance  the  queen  bestowed  on  the 
two  greatest  men  of  her  time  was  through  the  influ* 
ence  of  these  favourites 

•  Puttenham,  Arte  of  English  Poesio. 


232  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

Music  was  much  in  fashion  in  Elizabeth's  court; 
we  are  told  that  most  of  her  ladies  "  studied  prick- 
Bong^,"  that  is,  the  theory  of  music ;  Elizabeth  her- 
self played  well  on  the  virj^nals  (a  kind  of  spinet  or 
small  harpsichord) — so  far,  as  Camden  justly  ob- 
serves, "  as  might  hecome  a  princess."  It  appears 
that  she  excelled  the  Queen  of  Scots  on  keyed  in- 
struments, but  Mary  played  better  on  the  lute. 
Queen  Elizabeth's  music-book  is  still  extant,  and  the 
pieces  contained  in  it  are  more  remarkable  for  their 
difficulty  than  their  beauty.  A  little  instrument 
called  the  gittern  or  cittern,  which  appears  to  have 
resembled  a  small  guitar,  was  in  fashion  as  an  ac- 
companiment to  the  voice.  Laneham,  one  of  the 
courtiers,  and  a  dependant  of  Lord  Leicester,  thus 
describes  his  own  playing  on  the  cittern :  "  And  to 
say  truth,  what  with  mine  eyes,  with  my  Spanish 
sospires,  my  French  heighos,  mine  Italian  dulcets, 
my  Dutch  hoves,  my  double  releas,  my  high  reaches, 
my  fine  feigning,  my  deep  diapason,  my  wanton  war- 
bles, my  running,  my  timing,  my  tuning,  and  my 
twinkling,  I  can  gracify  the  matter  as  well  as  the 
proudest  of  them." 

The  principal  musician  of  Elizabeth's  time  was 
William  Bird,  organist  of  Lincoln,  the  composer  of 
the  beautiful  and  well-known  canon,  Non  nobis  Do- 
mine  ;  and  it  is  worthy  of  remark,  that  in  her  reign 
we  find  the  first  introduction  of  Italian  music  into 
England,  and  the  first  mention  of  English  words 
adapted  to  Italian  airs.  Church  music  and  the  science 
of  harmony  were  principally  cultivated ;  the  fashion- 
able style  of  vocal  music  was  the  madrigal  for  three 
or  four  voices,  and  it  was  extremely  elaborate  and 
artificial.  Shakspeare  complains  that  the  simple  old 
ballad  airs  were  banished  for  this  new  style  of  Italian 
music ;  at  the  same  time  that  he  appears  to  have 
been  most  sensible  to  its  real  beauty.  He  has  cele- 
brated a  lutenist  of  tlie  name  of  Dowland  : — 


ELIZABETH.  233 

Rowland  to  thee  5s  dear,  wliose  heavenly  touch 
Upon  the  lute  dolh  ravish  hunwin  sense.* 

there  was  a  collection  of  songs  in  praise  of  Queen 
Elizabeth,  called  the  "  Triumphs  of  Oriana,"  set  to 
music  by  the  most  eminent  composers  of  her  reign 
and  among  them  we  find  the  name  of  John  Milton 
the  father  of  tlie  great  poet. 

Painting  and  architecture  received  but  little  pat' 
ronage  in  Elizabeth's  reign.  She  was  fond  of  multi- 
plj'ing  pictures  of  herself,  and  so  far,  and  no  farther 
did  she  encourage  painting.  One  of  her  most  curious 
and  characteristic  ordinances  is  a  proclamation  pro- 
hibiting all  manner  of  persons  from  drawing,  paint- 
ing, graving,  &c.,  her  majesty's  person  and  visage, 
till  some  perfect  pattern  and  example  should  be  pre- 
pared by  a  skilful  limner,  "  for  the  consolation  of  her 
majesty's  loving  subjects,  who  were  grieved  and  took 
great  offence  at  the  errors  and  deformities  committed 
by  sundry  persons  in  this  respect."  Yet  her  painters 
do  not  appear  to  have  flattered  her  as  much  as  hei 
poets. t  The  portraits  remaining  of  Elizabeth  (and 
tney  are  numerous)  show  how  vile,  how  tawdry,  and 
iiow  vulgar  was  her  taste  in  art ;  they  could  hardly 
be  fine  enough  to  please  her;  they  seem  all  made  up 
of  jewels,  crowns,  and  frizzled  hair,  powdered  with 
dip.monds,  and  "  ruffs,  and  cuffs,  and  farthingales,  and 
things ;"  and  from  the  midst  of  this  superfluity  of 
ornament,  her  pinched  Roman  nose,  thin  lips,  and 
sharp  eyes,  peer  out  with  a  very  disagreeable  effect, 
quite  contrary  to  all  our  ideas  of  grace  or  majesty. 
She  was  so  little  capable  of  judging  a  work  of  art, 
that  she  would  not  allow  a  painter  to  put  any  shadows 
upor  *he  face,  "  because,"  as  she  said,  "  shade  is  an 
accidciit,  and  not  in  nature  ;" — this  was  like  the  Chi- 
nese, who  tried  to  wipe  off  the  shadows  from  the 
picture  of  George  the  Third,  which  had  been  sent 
out  as  a  present  to  the  Emperor  of  China,  being  jer- 

*  See  Shakspeare's  Sonnets.  t  Walpole. 


234  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

suaded,  like  Queen  Elizabeth,  that  they  could  only 
have  come  there  by  accident.  Yet  her  reign,  destined 
to  be  every  way  illustrious,  produced  the  first  native 
painter  of  distinguished  eminence  in  Isaac  Oliver 
one  of  the  most  admirable  miniature-painters  who 
ever  existed,  for  he  has  not  since  been  surpassed  in 
his  own  style  of  art.  Frederick  Zucchero,  a  cele- 
brated Italian  painter,  visited  England  m  1574,  and 
painted  Elizabeth,  Mary  Queen  of  Scots,  who  sat  to 
him  while  in  confinement  at  Hardwicke,  and  several 
persons  of  the  court.  Milliard,  an  English  painter, 
remarkable  for  the  neatness  of  his  execution  and 
total  want  of  taste,  was  Elizabeth's  favourite  painter, 
and  she  often  sat  to  him.  Lucas  de  Heere,  who 
painted  many  portraits  of  her  time,  was  a  Fleming. 
There  were  no  artists  of  eminence  in  any  department 
but  portrait-painting.  Sir  Nathaniel  Bacon,  the 
brother  of  the  great  Lord  Bacon,  is  the  first  English 
gentleman  on  record  who  cultivated  painting  as  an 
amateur ;  that  is,  merely  from  a  love  of  the  art ;  and 
some  of  his  pictures  which  remain  show  that  he  pur- 
sued it  successfully. 

Architecture  was  even  in  a  worse  state  than  paint- 
ing, although  a  mania  for  building  seems  to  have 
prevailed  among  the  nobility  of  that  time.  The 
style  was  magnificent,  but  the  taste  ungraceful  and 
barbarous.  "  In  more  ancient  times,"  says  Walpole, 
"  the  mansions  of  the  great  lords  were  built  for  de- 
fence and  strength  rather  than  convenience ;  the 
walls  thick ;  the  windows  pierced  wherever  it  was 
most  necessary  for  them  to  look  abroad,  instead  of 
being  contrived  for  symmetry  or  to  illuminate  the 
chambers.  To  that  style  succeeded  the  richness 
and  dehcacy  of  the  Gothic.  As  this  declined,  before 
the  Grecian  taste  was  established,  space  and  vast- 
ness  seem  to  have  made  their  whole  ideas  of  gran- 
deur. The  palaces  erected  in  the  reign  of  Elizabeth 
by  the  memorable  Countess  of  Shrewsbury*  are  ex- 

*  The  same  who  had  the  charge  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots.    She  built 
Hardwicke,  Chatsworth,  &c. 


t  EMZAni.Tl!.  235 

actly  in  this  style.  The  apartmrnts  are  lofty  and 
enormous,  and  they  knew  not  how  to  furnish  them; 
pictures,  had  they  had  good  ones,  would  be  lost  in 
chambers  of  such  height ;  tapestry,  their  chief  move- 
able, was  not  commonly  [)erfect  enough  to  be  real 
magnificence ;  fretted  ceilings,  graceful  mouldings 
of  windows,  and  painted  glass,  the  ornaments  of  the 
preceding  age,  were  fallen  into  disuse.  Immense 
lights,  composed  of  bad  glass  in  diamond  panes,  cast 
an  air  of  poverty  on  their  most  costly  apartments." 
The  most  splendid  specimens  of  this  style  of  archi- 
tecture remaining  to  us  are,  Hardwicke ;  Burleigh 
House,  the  seat  of  Lord  Exeter;  Holland  House,  at 
Kensington;  and  Hatfield,  the  seat  of  Lord  Salis- 
bury. An  immense  gallery  and  vast  projecting  win- 
dows were  the  general  features  of  the  great  man- 
sions erected  in  this  age.  John  Thorpe  was  the 
principal  architect.  Inigo  Jones  was  born  in  Eliza- 
beth's reign,  but  did  not  rise  to  any  eminence  in  his 
profession  till  some  years  after  her  death;  he  re- 
turned from  Italy  with  his  imagination  full  of  Michael 
Angelo  and  Palladio,  and  designed  the  palace  of 
Whitehall. 

The  grandfather  of  Elizabeth  left  us  one  of  the 
most  splendid  monuments  of  Gothic  architecture  in 
the  kingdom,  Henry  the  Seventh's  Chapel  at  West- 
minster. Her  father  founded  a  college,  and  built  a 
palace ;  her  brother  endov^ed  the  finest  school  and 
hospital  in  England,  memorials  worthy  of  his  amia- 
ble character.  Elizabeth  left  behind  her  no  monu- 
ment of  her  taste,  her  munificence,  or  her  benevo- 
lence ;  she  left  three  thousand  gowns  in  her  ward- 
robe. 

With  regard  to  the  state  of  morals  and  riianners 
rn  Elizabeth's  court,  the  first  were  not  better,  and  the 
latter  not  worse,  than  in  other  courts  of  that  time. 
The  system  of  corruption  was  open  and  gross,  for 
not  only  favour,  but  justice,  was  to  be  bought  and 
sold.     When  we  read  that  Lord  Bacon  was  disgraced 


238  FE3IALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

m  the  following'  reig-n  for  accepting-,  or  allowing  his 
servants  to  accept,  of  bribes  in  his  office,  we  are  at 
first  filled  with  pity,  surprise,  and  even  consterna- 
tion, that  a  man  so  wise  and  so  great,  to  whom  God 
gave  a  spirit  to  comprehend  the  universe,  who  was 
the  Columbus  of  modem  philosophy, — that  ke  should 
thus  so  poorly  degrade  himself;  but  we  find  that  in 
the  court  in  which  he  was  educated  and  passed  his 
early  probation^  as  a  statesman  it  w^as  the  common 
and  general  practice.  Elizabeth  scrupled  not  to 
accept  of  bribes  herself,  to  induce  her  to  influence 
her  own  counsellors  and  judg^es  ;*  and  no  man  thought 
of  furthering  a  suit  at  court  or  at  law  without  a  pres- 
ent in  his  hand.  We  Vr^ill  give  one  serious  and  one 
•amusing instance  out  of  hyndreds.  The  Archbishop 
of  York  wished  to  procure  the  pardon  of  an  unfortu- 
nate man  who^  let  it  be  remarked,  was  innocent ;  but 
he  petitioned  in  vain.  "  And  therefore,''  writes  the 
archbishop,  "  I  being  put  in  mind  that  all  was  not 
done  in  that  court  for  God*s  sake  only,  sent  up 
twenty  French  crowns  of  mine  own  purse,  as  a 
small  remembrance  for  a  poor  man's  pardon,  which 
was  thankfully  accepted  of.  There  is  some  fault 
somewhere;  I  know  it  is  not  in  her  majesty,  of 
whom  I  will  say,  as  the  prophet  David  speaketh  of 
God, '  Hath  Queen  Elizabeth  forgotten  to  be  gra- 
cious, and  is  her  mercy  come  to  an  end  for  ever- 
more ]'  The  wliole  world  knoweth  the  contrary." 
At  the  time  of  the  date  of  this  letter  the  good  arch- 
bishop had  been  suing  this  pardon  in  vain  for  nine 
months  for  a  man  whose  only  crime  was  that  he  had 
once  been  a  Papist,  though  now  converted,  and  a 
good  Protestant;  and  whether  the  twenty  crowns 
at  length  availed  is  not  ascertained. 

When  Sir  John  Harrington  came  up  to  town  about 
B  lawsuit,  he  made  a  memorandum  of  the  best  man- 
ner of  proceeding.     In  these  days,  if  a  man  were 

•  Mi««  Aikia,  ii.  p.  408. 


ELIZABETH.  23V 

going  to  law  about  an  estate,  he  would  probably  go 
to  Lincoln's  Inn,  choose  an  acute  and  eloquent  law 
yer  to  manage  his  case,  pay  him  the  proper  fee,  and 
leave  the  rest  to  the  judges.  Harrington  took  a 
different  method.  His  first  care  was  to  piease  her 
majesty  in  the  cut  of  his  coat ;  for,  as  she  had  for- 
merly spit  on  the  dress  of  a  courtier  which  had  dis- 
pleased her,  this  was  of  some  consequence.  He 
then  proceeds,  "  I  must  go  in  an  early  hour,  before 
her  highness  hath  special  matters  brought  up  to 
counsel  on.  I  must  go  before  the  breakfast-covers 
are  placed,  and  stand  uncovered  as  her  highness 
conieth  forth  her  chamber,  and  kneel,  and  say,  God 
save  your  majesty  !  I  crave  your  ear  at  what  hour 
may  suit  for  your  servant  to  meet  your  blessed 
countenance  !  Thus  will  I  gain  her  favour  to  follow 
to  the  auditory."  He  afterward  says,  in  another 
place,  "  Yet  I  will  adventure  to  give  her  majesty  five 
hundred  pounds  in  money,  and  some  pretty  jewel, 
or  garment,  as  you  shall  advise,  only  praying  her 
majesty  to  further  my  suit  with  some  of  her  learned 
counsel."  These  were  some  of  the  means  by  which 
people  obtained  justice  in  the  reign  of  "  Good  Queen 
Bess." 

We  learn  that  the  daily  ceremonial  of  her  court 
was  distinguished  by  "  oriental  servility."  Her  table 
was  served  kneeling,  and  with  as  many  genuflexions 
as  would  have  contented  the  Emperor  of  China. 
Even  her  ministers  never  addressed  her  but  on  their 
knees.  From  this  slavish  ceremony  Lord  Burleigh 
was  latterly  excused,  when  age  and  infirmities  had 
rendered  it  pamful,  or  rather  impracticable ;  but  he 
was  the  only  exception. 

With  as  much  real  power,  with  as  much  real 
greatness,  as  would  have  satisfied  any  mortal  (but 
that  with  power  in  every  shape  "  Vappetit  vient  en 
mangeayit'"'),  with  talents  and  strength  of  character 
that  ought  to  have  commanded  real  and  heartfelt 
respect.  Elizabeth  would  stooo  to  the  most  childisb 


238  FEMALE    60    EREIGNS. 

rivalry  with  the  women  of  her  own  court,  and,  hke 
a  spoiled  infant,  was  miserable  unless  she  were  the 
sole  source  of  all  favour,  the  centre  of  all  attraction, 
and  the  object  of  all  adoration.  Her  maids  of  hon- 
our were  sometimes  the  victims  of  this  petty  jeal- 
ousy, which  extended  even  to  dress. 

There  was  among-  her  attendants  a  young  girl  of 
rank  (Lady  Mary  Howard),  remarkable  for  her  beauty 
and  her  liveliness,  who  had  attracted  the  notice  of 
Essex  and  others  of  the  courtiers,  and  consequently 
became  the  object  of  the  queen's  vindictive  dis 
pleasure,  and  the  victim  of  those  arts  of  tormenting 
in  which  her  majesty  excelled. 

"  It  happened,"  relates  Sir  John  Harrington,  "  thai 
Lady  M.  Howard  was  possessed  of  a  rich  border 
powdered  with  golde  and  pearle,  and  a  velvet  suite 
belonging  thereto,  which  moved  many  to  envye  ;  nor 
did  it  please  the  queene,  who  thought  it  exceeded 
her  own.  One  daye  the  queene  did  sende  privately, 
and  got  the  lady's  rich  vesture,  which  she  put  on 
herself,  and  came  forthe  the  chamber  among  the 
ladies.  The  kirtle  and  border  was  far  too  shorte  for 
her  majestie's  height ;  and  she  asked  every  one  how 
they  liked  her  new-fancied  suit.  At  length  she 
asked  the  owner  herself  'if  it  was  not  made  too 
short  and  ill-becoming?'  which  the  poor  ladie  did 
presenthe  consent  to.  *  Why,  then,  if  it  become  not 
me  as  being  too  shorte,  I  am  minded  it  shall  never 
be(;ome  thee  as  being  too  fine  ;  so  it  fitteth  neither 
well.'  This  sharpe  rebuke  abashed  the  ladie,  and 
she  never  adorned  herself  herewith  any  more." 

The  story  of  Lady  Mary  Howard  is  thus  continued 
in  one  of  Fenton's  letters : — "  I  have  not  seen  her 
highnesse  save  twice  since  Easter  last,  bothe  of 
which  times  she  spake  most  vehemently  and  with 
great  warmth  of  her  servant,  the  Lady  Marie  How- 
ard, forasmuche  as  she  refused  to  bear  her  mantle 
at  the  hour  her  highnesse  is  wonted  to  air  in  the 
garden,  and  on  small  rebuke  did  vent  such  unseemlie 


ELIZABETH.  239 

answer  as  did  breede  much  choler  in  her  mistress. 
Again,  on  other  occasion,  she  was  not  ready  to  carry 
the  cup  of  grace  during  the  dinner  in  the  privie- 
chamber ;  nor  was  she  attending  at  the  hour  of  her 
majestie's  going  to  prayer.  All  which  doth  now  so 
disquiet  her  highnesse,  that  she  swore  she  would  no 
more  show  her  any  countenance,  but  out  with  all 
such  ungracious,  flouting  wenches;  because,  for- 
sooth, she  hath  much  favour  and  marks  of  love  from 
the  young  earl,  which  is  not  pleasing  to  the  queene, 
who  doth  still  much  exhort  all  her  women  to  remain 
in  virgin  state  as  much  as  may  be.  I  ventured  to 
say  as  far  as  discretion  did  go  in  defence  of  our 
friende,  and  did  urge  much  in  behalf  of  youth  and 
enticing  love,  which  did  often  abate  of  right  mea- 
sures in  fair  ladies  ;  and  moreover  related  what  ever 
might  please  the  queene,  touching  the  confession  of 
her  great  kindness  to  her  sister  Jane  before  her  mar- 
riage ;  all  which  did  nothing  soothe  her  highnesse' 
anger,  saying,  '  I  have  made  her  my  servante,  and 
she  will  now  make  herself  my  mistress  ;  but  in  good 
faith,  WiUiam,  she  shall  not,  and  so  tell  her.'  In 
short,  pitie  doth  move  to  save  this  ladie,  and  would 
beg  such  suite  to  the  queene  from  you  and  your 
friends  as  may  win  her  favour  to  spare  on  future 
amendmente."  "  It  might  not  be  amisse  to  talk  to 
this  younge  ladie  to  be  more  dutiful,  and  not  absent 
at  meals  or  prayers ;  to  bear  her  highnesse  mantle 
and  other  furniture,  even  more  than  all  the  rest  of 
the  servants  ;  to  make  ample  amendes  by  future  dili- 
gence, and  always  to  go  first  in  a  morninge  to  her 
highnesse  chamber,  forasmuch  as  such  kindnesse 
will  much  prevail  to  turn  awaie  all  former  displea- 
sure. She  must  not  entertaine  my  lord  the  earl  in 
any  conversation,  but  shunne  his  companye;  and 
moreover,  be  less  careful  in  attiring  her  own  person, 
for  this  seemeth  as  done  more  to  win  the  earl  than 
her  mistress'  good  will.  *  *  *  *  If  we  consider 
the  favour  show^  her  familie,  theve  is  gi'ound  for 


240  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

ill  humour  in  the  queene,  who  doth  not  now  bear 
with  such  composed  spirit  as  she  was  wont,  but, 
since  the  Irish  affairs,  seemeth  more  froward  than 
commonlie  she  used  to  bear  herself  toward  her 
women ;  nor  doth  she  hold  them  in  discourse  with 
such  familiar  matter,  but  often  chides  for  small 
neglects,  in  such  wise  as  to  make  these  fair  maids 
often  cry  and  bewail  themselves  in  piteous  sort,  as 
I  am  told  by  my  sister  Elizabeth."* 

Like  her  father,  the  big  and  bluff  King  Harry, 
Elizabeth  knew  how  to  unite  a  certain  coarse  famil- 
iarity with  the  most  unfeehng  despotism,  and  the 
most  peremptory  self-will.  But  with  the  imperious 
disposition  of  the  Tudors,  she  inherited  also  their 
intrepidity,  and  had  a  good  deal  of  strength  of  nerve 
as  well  as  strength  of  mind  ;  immediate  and  present 
peril  never  seems  to  have  daunted  her.  The  gross 
adulation,  the  unmeasured  flattery  she  received  from 
her  courtiers,  is  at  once  ludicrous  and  disgusting, 
and  proves  the  vulgar  depravity  of  taste  in  her,  who 
not  only  endured,  but  exacted  it.  With  all  her  ex- 
travagant personal  vanity,  her  real  sagacity  could 
not  have  been  deceived ;  she  was  not  so  blind  but 
that  the  sight  of  her  own  face  in  a  mirror,  when  she 
began  to  grow  old,  threw  her  into  "  transports  of 
impotent  rage."t  She  must  have  seen,  and  she 
did  see,  that  all  the  flattery  addressed  to  her  was 
false,  and  hollow,  and  self-interested ;  but  it  was  a 
tribute  become  necessary  to  her,  and  she  enjoyed  it 
with  a  perverted  consciousness  of  her  own  power, 
that  could  thus  force  the  herd  of  flatterers  around 
her  to  belie  their  own  eyes  and  understanding,  and 
address  her  as  a  sacred  goddess,  a  Venus,  or  nymph, 
at  the  age  of  sixty-five.     It  is  very  curious,  and  at 

*  Vide  Nugae  Antiquae,  by  Parke. 

t  Towards  the  end  of  her  life  she  discontinued  the  use  of. a  looking- 
glass  ;  and  it  is  even  said  that  her  tirewomen,  "  confident  in  their  mis- 
tress's prejudice  against  her  mirror,  sometimes  indulged  their  own  hatred 
and  mirth,  and  ventured  to  lay  upon  the  royal  nose  the  carmine  which 
ought  to  have  embellished  the  cheeks  " 


ELIZABETH.  241 

the  same  time  very  pitiable,  to  contrast  this  extorted 
adulation  with  the  confidential  communications  of 
her  ministers  and  attendants  ;  with  their  complaints 
of  incessant,  hard,  and  often  unrewarded  service; 
of  her  majesty's  "  grievous  rating,"  and  "  marvellous 
choler ;"  their  congratulating  each  other  when  she 
condescended  to  be  "  reasonably  quiet ;"  her  swear- 
ing at  her  ministers,*  and  frowning  at  her  ladies, 
beating  "  the  fair  Bridges,"  and  other  maids  of  hon- 
our ;  swearing  at  Lady  Arundel,  and  pinching  poor 
Lady  Huntingdon  "  very  sorely  ;"  what  should  we 
now  think  of  any  female  of  rank  and  education  who 
conducted  herself  with  such  extraordinary  indeco- 
rum 1     Even  worse  than  this  was  her  extreme  du- 
plicity in  the  relations  of  private  life.     One  of  the 
most  revolting  traits  recorded  of  her  is  that  men- 
tioned by  her  godson  Harrington,  who  appears  to 
have  perfectly  understood  her  character,  and  to 
have  respected   and  admired  her  talents  and  her 
better  qualities.    *'  Her  mind,"  he  says,  "  was  oftime 
like  the  gentle  air  that  cometh  from  the  westerly 
point  in  a  summer's  morn  ;  it  was  sweet  and  re- 
freshing to   all  around  her ;  again,  she  could  put 
forth  such  alterations,  as  left  no  doubling  whose 
daughter  she  was.     By  art  and  nature  together  so 
blended,, it  was  difficult  to  find  her  right  humour  at 
any  time,  for  few  knew  how  to  aim  their  shaft 
against  her  cunning."     "  I  have  seen  her  smile,  for- 
sooth, with  great  semblance  of  good  liking  to  all 
around,  and  cause  every  man  to  open  his  most  in- 
ward thought  to  her  ;  when,  on  a  sudden,  she  would 
ponder  in  private  on  what  had  passed,  write  down 
all  their  opinions,  draw  them  out  as  occasion  re- 
quired, and  sometimes  disprove  to  their  faces  what 
had  been  delivered  a  month  before.     Hence,  she 
knew  everyone's  part ;  and  by  thus^5^m^,  as  Hat- 

*  Ritson  has  given  a  list  of  dueen  Elizabeth's  habitual  oaths,  which 
is  more  strange  than  edifying :  and  of  one  tremendous  asseveration  he 
observes,  "  she  had  it  as  often  in  her  mouth  as  a  fishwoman." 


242  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

ton  said,  she  caught  many  poor  fish,  who  httle  knew 
what  snare  was  laid  for  them." 

Harrington  also  bears  witness  to  her  extraordi- 
nary power  of  overawing  all  who  approached  her. 
In  describing  an  interview  he  had  with  her  when 
her  "  gracious  disposition"  had  been,  as  usual,  dis- 
tempered by  the  Irish  affairs  under  Essex,  he  adds, 
"  Until  I  come  before  Heaven  I  shall  never  come 
before  a  statelier  judge  again,  nor  one  that  can 
temper  majesty,  wisdom,  learning,  choler,  and  fa- 
vour better  than  her  highness  did  at  that  time." — 
"  At  last  I  was  bid  '  go  home  ;'  I  did  not  stay  to  be 
told  twice.  If  all  the  Irish  rebels  had  been  at  my 
heels,  I  should  not  have  had  better  speed ;  for  I  did 
now  flee  from  one  whom  I  loved  and  feared  too." 

It  has  been  said  that  Elizabeth  never  forgot  the 
woman  in  the  sovereign  :  it  might  be  said  with  much 
more  truth  that  she  never  forgot  the  sovereign  in 
the  woman,  and  surely  this  is  no  praise. — One  more 
destitute  of  what  is  called  heart,  that  is,  of  the  ca- 
pacity for  all  the  gentle,  generous,  and  kindly  affec- 
tions proper  to  her  sex,  cannot  be  imagined  in  the 
female  form.  We  hear  of  her  "  lion-like  port ;" 
but  woman-like  or  Christian-like  formed  no  part  of 
her  character :  accordingly,  we  find  that  she  passed 
through  life  without  a  friend,  with  the  sense  to  know 
it,  and  yet  with  the  folly  and  the  pride  to  imagine 
that  her  station  placed  her  above  that  want. 

Robert  Cecil,  the  son  of  the  celebrated  Lord- 
treasurer  Burleigh,  possessed,  towards  the  close  of 
her  reign,  the  unbounded  confidence  of  Elizabeth, 
as  her  principal  secretary  of  state  and  prime  min- 
ister, and  betrayed  his  trust.  He  carried  on  a  secret 
correspondence  with  the  King  of  Scots  and  his  min- 
isters, in  which  every  secret  of  Elizabeth's  court 
and  cabinet  was  divulged.  If  this  treachery  had 
transpired,  it  would  certainly  have  cost  him  his 
head ;  and  on  one  occasion  his  acuteness  and  presence 
of  mind  saved  hinj,  when  on  the  verge  of  ruin.    The 


ELIZABETH.  243 

anecdote  is  characteristic  both  of  Elizabeth  and  her 
minister.  "  Elizabeth  was  taking  the  air  in  a  car- 
riag-e,  where  Cecil  occupied  a  seat,  when  one  of  the 
royal  posts  passed  them.  '  From  whence  V  the 
queen  demanded ;  and  the  answer  was,  '  From  Scot- 
land.'— '  Give  me  your  packet,'  said  the  queen.  It  was 
delivered  accordingly. — '  Open  it,'  said  she  to  Cecil 

*  and  show  me  the  contents.'  As  the  packet  containea 
some  part  of  Cecil's  correspondence  with  the  King 
of  Scots,  the  command  placed  the  crafty  statesman 
within  view  of  ruin  and  the  scaffold.  To  have  at- 
tempted to  suppress  or  subtract  any  of  the  papers 
which  the  packet  contained  would  have  been  a  haz- 
ardous experiment  in  the  presence  of  the  most  sharp- 
sighted  and  jealous  of  sovereigns.  Cecil's  presence 
of  mind  found  an  expedient.  '  This  packet,'  said 
he,  as  he  pulled  his  knife  out  to  cut  the  strings  with 
which  it  was  secured,  'has  an  uncommon  odour, 
and  must  have  been  in  some  filthy  budgets.'  The 
queen  was  alarmed :  she  had  been  all  her  life  deli- 
cate in  the  sense  of  smelling,  and  was  apprehensive 
of  poison,  which  the  age  believed  could  be  commu- 
nicated by  that  organ.     '  Take  it,'  she  said  to  Cecil, 

*  and  let  it  be  aired  before  the  contents  are  presented 
to  us.'  The  wily  secretary  obeyed  her  commands, 
and  obtained  the  desired  opportunity  to  withdraw 
such  papers  as  he  deemed  it  important  to  conceal."* 

Of  her  two  celebrated  favourites,  the  Earl  of  Lei- 
cester and  the  Earl  of  Essex,  the  first  was  a  mos 
weak  and  worthless  man,  contemned  and  feared  by 
her  nobles,  odious  to  her  people  ;  yet,  in  spite  of  all 
his  vices  and  incapacity,  he  died,  as  he  had  lived,  a 
favourite  ;  and  his  influence  for  nearly  thirty  years 
can  hardly  be  reconciled  with  the  general  idea  of 
Elizabeth's  wisdom  and  penetration.  Her  partiality 
for  Essex  seems  to  have  been  the  dotage  of  a  vain 
old  woman.     She  could  not  appreciate  his  fine  quail- 

•  Vide  Sir  Walter  Scott's  History  of  Scotland. 


244  FEMALE    SOVEREIGNS. 

ties  ;  she  would  not  make  allowances  for  his  faults; 
and  he  was  too  frank  and  spirited  to  cringe  at  her 
footstool.  The  memorable  box  on  the  ear  he  re- 
ceived from  her  would  have  been  nothing  from  a 
woman ;  from  an  angry  sovereign  it  was  intolerable. 
"  Let  those,"  he  exclaimed,  "that  mean  to  make  their 
profit  of  princes  show  no  sense  of  princes'  injuries . 
Let  them  acknowledge  an  infinite  absoluteness  on 
earth,  that  do  not  believe  an  infinite  absoluteness  in 
heaven.  I  owe  her  majesty  the  duty  of  an  earl,  but 
I  will  never  serve  her  as  a  villain  and  a  slave  !" — • 
Essex  was  too  rash  and  unsuspecting  to  be  a  match 
for  the  cool,  calculating,  wily  ministers,  whose  in- 
terest was  to  destroy  him  out  of  their  way,  not  only 
as  the  favourite  of  the  present  sovereign,  but  as 
likely  to  be  all-powerful  with  her  successor;  and 
partly  by  their  arts,  and  partly  by  his  own  fiery  tem- 
per, he  was  brought  to  the  block,  in  the  thirty-fourth 
year  of  his  age.  In  the  exasperation  of  offended 
power  and  jealous'  self-will,  the  queen  signed  the 
warrant  for  his  execution ;  and  pined  away  the  re- 
mainder of  her  life  in  unavailing  remorse.  Accus- 
tomed to  perform  other  acts  of  severity  without  any 
detriment  to  her  peace  of  mind,  she  thought  she 
could  surmount  this  pain  by  the  mere  force  of  her 
will.  She  was  surprised  and  indignant  to  find 
that  she  could  not;  and  that  there  was  a  mighty 
hand  upon  her,  under  which  she  writhed  in  vain. 
She  was  now  aged  and  feeble ;  she  had  survived 
her  old  servants  and  ministers ;  she  was  without 
resources  in  herself;  she  knew  she  was  surrounded 
by  venal,  interested  men,  who  only  waited  till  the 
last  gasp  had  left  her  frail,  care-worn,  wrinkled  car- 
cass, to  crowd  round  her  successor :  with  all  the 
bitterness  of  impotent  rage  and  jealousy  she  felt 
this,  but  she  "  queen'd  it"  to  the  last  with  a  sullen 
dignity.  The  picture  of  Elizabeth,  the  renowned 
and  feared,  the  idol  at  home,  the  terror  abroad,  lying 
on  her  palace-floor,  with  her  finger  in  her  mouth. 


ELIZABETH.  245 

seeking-  no  support  from  religion,  no  consolation 
from  affection, — friendless,  helpless,  hopeless,  com- 
fortless, and  thus  gradually  wasting  into  death,  is 
such  a  lesson  on  the  nothingness  of  power,  and  the 
miscalculations  of  selfishness,  that  history  affords 
not  one  more  terrible  and  impressive. 

Queen  Elizabeth  died  at  Richmond,  in  1603,  two 
years  after  the  death  of  Essex.  Her  last  words 
were  strongly  characteristic,  and  exhibited  "  the 
ruling  passion  strong  in  death."  During  her  whole 
life  she  had  shown  a  perverse  dread  of  naming  her 
successor;  but  it  was  necessary  that  the  question 
should  be  put  to  her  in  her  last  moments.  She 
replied,  "  My  seat  has  been  the  seat  of  kings,  and  1 
will  have  no  rascal  to  succeed  me."  (As  if  all  who 
were  not  princes  were  necessarily  rascals.)  Secre- 
tary Cecil  boldly  asked  her  what  she  meant  by  those 
words,  "  that  no  rascal  should  succeed  her  V  to  which 
she  answered,  that  "  she  would  be  succeeded  by  a 
king ;  and  who  should  that  be  but  the  King  of  Scots  ?" 
Thus,  in  a  manner,  acknowledging  the  legal  rights 
of  Mary  Stuart,  whom  she  had  hated,  and  at  length 
put  to  death,  for  possessing  and  maintaining  those 
rights. 


siri>  or  TOL.  1. 


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